I believe in absence.
Not the absence of existence but the absence of love of the moment. Our world is not for “carpe diem” anymore, but we strive for tomorrow. In my recent days, I have been saving and planning for my summer and college the following year. I have a few trips planned. In order to accomplish everything I had set out to do, I had to construct a savings plan and restrict my activities to simply working to afford everything I needed. The elation in my parents faces’ when they discovered my plans could not be hidden. They praised me for planning and working so hard. In my parents’ good intentions they had poked and prodded me to plan and work myself to the bone, so I could be prepared for the rest of my life. But when I informed a close family friend of my situation, he opened my eyes. He saw my exhaustion at working so many hours, and my apathy to the here and now. He kept asking the simple question I could not answer: what are you doing now? I tried to explain that I was planning a trip to Tennessee, but that did not satisfy him. The importance of that question didn’t strike me until I lay in bed wondering what I was doing. Upon the blackened ceiling I saw the seasons and the beauty I had missed. The snow fell lightly and dusted the woods in my yard. In this white shimmering wonderland the younger children flew down the hills with bright colorful plastic wings; some had even crashed and had to be carried home. I couldn’t believe I had missed the first robin of spring, too. Its joyous flight brings the hope of new life to the quieted earth. I missed my childish love of every instant. I lost the truth of the moment. The sheer joy of watching snowflakes get caught in the wind and tossed asunder. In planning the rest of my life I missed the beauty of life that makes it worth living. Planning for the future is always done in our best interest, but planning away the first blade of grass that pushes through the last snow of winter is something I’ll never miss again. The love of every instant that passes has been lost, but I don’t believe it has been forgotten.