I like to tell myself that Life is beautiful because it’s temporary. That is part of what makes life worth LIVING and not just watching pass you by.
I would tell myself, “Nothing lasts forever – even good things.” Only to learn as I kept living – and to later change the end of that phrasing to, “Especially good things.”
So, as people, we learn to value good things that bring us joy — because we NEVER know when they may go away.
If you’re lucky – you wise up, and you see the luster of magnificent things before you prior to them becoming a memory.
I opened this post with the concept in the video above because I find comfort in the beauty of those words when I think about them in regard to Life, and I feel like the statement made in that little speech embodies our collective existence: Strong. Mesmerizing. And BEAUTIFULLY Temporary.
We… Are waves.
Waves of all shapes and sizes – BIG and small — But we’re seen.
Sometimes, only from a bird’s eye view — but, regardless of our size, someone ALWAYS sees us (even if we think they don’t).
And like all waves, we touch everything we encounter and leave it a little changed. Sometimes it may just be one thing that our waters reach – but, at least SOMETHING is touched by our existence.
And since we’re all swimmers in Life, chances are the “something” those waters touch – is actually someone.
Events of the last few months have really made that excerpt from the finale of The Good Place take on a special meaning for me.
You see, I had the honor of seeing and swimming atop two glorious waves before I even realized it or knew what to do with either of them and the way they lovingly supported my weight.
They both lifted me up higher than I could’ve gone on my own, and they lifted WAAAAY more people than just me with a care that only waves know.
These waters had magically arisen & carried onward, while buoying others, well before I was born. You could say that those waves were essential parts of the water systems that moved me and my family along.
And very recently…
After the long stretch of sea each of those waves covered…
They crashed (gently) back into the ocean.
My Aunt Rachel & Uncle Chase were both special to me.
I didn’t know either of them the best. And I didn’t appreciate either of them the most… But they were both special to me.
Whether it was memories of eating food at their homes growing up; or seeing them laugh with the other adults while I sat at the kid’s table when I was little; or watching them age happily in the face of whatever came their way… They were both special to me.
They were huge astounding waves that anyone would be blessed to have witnessed in their lifetime, and they carried me well before I even knew to appreciate the strength in their currents.
And after years of being powerful forces of nature, it still feels like those waves have faded from our sights far too soon.
When each wave settled back down into the vast neverending waters they came from (one on August 14, 2020, and the other on December 2, 2020) – it wasn’t just their flow that changed the people fortunate enough to experience them…
I like to think that we, the people who loved riding those waves, forever changed their waters in return…
And that our tears, from their passing, add something special to the waters that make the next beautiful strong awe-inspiring wonderfully-made temporary waves that follow in their wake.
RIP, Beautiful Souls.
The soundtrack for this post provided by…
– Cover Image © Aleksandr Ozerov (Shutterstock)