Moments that disappear

Our lives have a num­ber of occa­sions. Some are real­ly enjoy­able and fun, some are going to dis­ap­pear as if they nev­er hap­pened to and some are going to be real­ly hard. As I group these occa­sions in this way I already feel that there is an impor­tant lesson: 

I hope that, in your life, you have less and less moments that will disappear. 

I have known Goose (a good friend) for decades, and in one moment of our friend­ship, he was real­ly sad and sor­ry for him­self. He told me that he felt depressed because his sto­ries were all from the past, he was no longer mak­ing any new sto­ries in his life. And I agreed with him, I too felt very sor­ry for him. But we felt very dif­fer­ent things… 

While Goose felt sor­ry that he was not hav­ing remark­able moments, I was sad because he was not aware that he was hav­ing remark­able moments all the time!

I think that this is a real­ly impor­tant learn­ing so let me repeat this in a dif­fer­ent way: life is ALWAYS hap­pen­ing to us, and moments just dis­ap­pear if we are unaware of them! 

You will only not have sto­ries about things that hap­pened to you last week if you are too busy with some­thing else to notice what is hap­pen­ing in your life. 

One of the key objec­tives of my teach­ing life is to help my stu­dents to increase their aware­ness, to be able to real­ly live in the moment and to extract the max­i­mum from this. If we have suc­cess in this we will nev­er run out of sto­ries and the sub­jec­tive per­cep­tion of the length of your life will increase to a point where you feel like you live intense­ly and you get great val­ue for life!

I missed my email to you last week and I apol­o­gize. I was trav­el­ing, I was going through a tough moment mak­ing deci­sions, nego­ti­at­ing and feel­ing emo­tion­al­ly drained. And yet, even as I expe­ri­enced this real­i­ty, I was try­ing to be present, to be liv­ing the moment. 

One of the most remark­able sto­ries of this trip hap­pened on a Sat­ur­day morn­ing. This was the sec­ond day I was see­ing my son after a long time apart and he was lov­ing being with me… But we were about to have a real­ly pow­er­ful expe­ri­ence. He was due to get a vac­cine, actu­al­ly 2 shots…. So Sat­ur­day morn­ing, a bright and sun­ny day, I met him at the Hos­pi­tal and the wait­ing room had loads of inter­est­ing toys. So we explored, had some fun and laughter. 

We then entered the exam room and I tried to keep him as dis­tract­ed and curi­ous as pos­si­ble. But the nurse told me off and said cold­ly: “sit, sit him on your lap and hold him tight!” So I did. I sat him down and gave him a bear hug and told him that he need­ed the vac­cine to be safe and while it would hurt a lit­tle I was there to hold him and sup­port him. Then, in a flash, 2 nurs­es swooped in, one from each side, with two enor­mous nee­dles. I bare­ly had a chance to blink and BAM! BAM! one on each thigh and Bri… bless him… screamed! 

It tore my heart. 

But I held on and I told him it was going to be ok and he would get some real­ly cool stick­ers on his legs because he was so brave. 

He cried for sec­onds and then as I hugged him I felt his body relax more and become snug­gly. The feel­ing of his trust and the moment we shared is for­ev­er burned deep in my mind. 


While this sto­ry is so mean­ing­ful to me, I would like you to take it to heart: don’t allow moments to dis­ap­pear. LIVE THEM

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