"It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." I'm not sure who that quote is credited to. But I’ve heard it before, from different individuals and at different, very distinct, times in my life. Some of those times, I thought I understood. Some of those times, I had no interest in understanding. But most recently, I completely absorbed the notion.
During my girlfriend's visit to LA (her very first time), her dog passed away in my house. The dog was not just a pet to her; she was a daughter, a sister, a best friend. And she died on the floor of my bedroom. Excuse my language, but that’s pretty traumatic shit. There was a long day of mourning before her return to Portland, and it is still hard to think about. Days later, my uncle passed. My mother’s sister’s husband was one of the kindest, friendliest, most generous humans I’ve known, and he left this life (as we know it) sooner than any of us would have hoped. Both of my roommates, although not blood-related, had very close relationships with my Uncle Russ, and so we all shared sorrow in his passing. Between friends (in my roommates) and family (mine is huge), there was much grief to have lost such a magnificent soul.
These two losses happened within four days. Granted, my Friday and Saturday in the meantime were pleasant, there was a short period of emotional flux that I don’t think I’d experienced at any point in the past. The loss of the little pup, followed by the departure of my girlfriend, then being at the Transworld Skateboarding Awards, and then a relaxing Saturday. An especially fun time skating (after not having skated in over a week), a chill night bonding with the roommate, and then waking up to the second round of bad news. That was my weekend.
And it got me thinking (obviously)...
Loss is something that everyone will have to deal with at some point, whether a pet, parent, or close friend. These vary dramatically in severity/gravity, but it’s important to recognize that anything or anyone in one’s life is part of one's life temporarily. This is not to say that you should see your parents as temporary objects in your life. But it IS to say that you should appreciate them as if they were. Every person goes away. They die. You die. I die. Those before you and those after us, all die. No matter how expected a death is, it will happen. Yet more often than we’d like, we lose people, things, and places in time, unexpectedly.
Everything is temporary, and actual death is an unpleasant reminder of exactly that. Yet, with maturity and time, we realize that with death comes birth. As things depart, others arrive. Even if only a falling out with a friend, there are always new friends to be made. That is not the goal, but it is the inevitable truth. Living in the moment can help one appreciate the time in which we do have a certain person, place or thing and enable us to move forward knowing that we fully appreciated and experienced time with it/him/her. It is only when we feel as if there was something, somewhere, or someone we didn’t get to that the disturbing feeling of regret becomes real.
Leave no word unsaid, action untaken, no “stone unturned,” and you will find that there is no regret, no longing, no debilitating grieving. This is not to say that I don't feel regret and deep grief for some of these reasons. I do. Most of us do. But I stand by the observation.
We all need to flow with time, and not fight it. There is not enough of that time in our lives to regret so much. But there is just enough time to use how we see fit to use it. Let’s say you can expect eighty five years of human life (and many live longer).
And it got me thinking (obviously)...
Loss is something that everyone will have to deal with at some point, whether a pet, parent, or close friend. These vary dramatically in severity/gravity, but it’s important to recognize that anything or anyone in one’s life is part of one's life temporarily. This is not to say that you should see your parents as temporary objects in your life. But it IS to say that you should appreciate them as if they were. Every person goes away. They die. You die. I die. Those before you and those after us, all die. No matter how expected a death is, it will happen. Yet more often than we’d like, we lose people, things, and places in time, unexpectedly.
Everything is temporary, and actual death is an unpleasant reminder of exactly that. Yet, with maturity and time, we realize that with death comes birth. As things depart, others arrive. Even if only a falling out with a friend, there are always new friends to be made. That is not the goal, but it is the inevitable truth. Living in the moment can help one appreciate the time in which we do have a certain person, place or thing and enable us to move forward knowing that we fully appreciated and experienced time with it/him/her. It is only when we feel as if there was something, somewhere, or someone we didn’t get to that the disturbing feeling of regret becomes real.
Leave no word unsaid, action untaken, no “stone unturned,” and you will find that there is no regret, no longing, no debilitating grieving. This is not to say that I don't feel regret and deep grief for some of these reasons. I do. Most of us do. But I stand by the observation.
We all need to flow with time, and not fight it. There is not enough of that time in our lives to regret so much. But there is just enough time to use how we see fit to use it. Let’s say you can expect eighty five years of human life (and many live longer).
Live like tomorrow (our future) you die, like today (our present) is beautiful, and like yesterday (our past) was everything it could have been. Loss is inevitable, and it is quite unhealthy to avoid or ignore something so definite. But designing a dream we’re capable of living NOW is a choice. Take the choice, knowing how it may bring more loss to your life.
There is far too much positive in this world to let loss blanket the positive.
Take risks in loving, exploring, experiencing, and attempting; and losing someone, someplace, something will never be quite so bad.
You might crash, but you won’t burn unless you left too much gas in the tank.
Cheers to life,
- 7Ply Epic
There is far too much positive in this world to let loss blanket the positive.
Take risks in loving, exploring, experiencing, and attempting; and losing someone, someplace, something will never be quite so bad.
You might crash, but you won’t burn unless you left too much gas in the tank.
Cheers to life,
- 7Ply Epic