Panajachel, Guatemala
Last week one of the someone from the community died. He was a musician, and although I didn’t know him well, some of my friends did. I was the last person who talked to him. We had a short pleasant conversation in the grocery store and he indicated he was now going home. Unfortunately his van went off a cliff and rolled 300′.
After I found out that he had died, and I was likely the last person who spoke with him, I went over the conversation word for word. It was friendly, but held no real depth, since we were only acquanitances. We talked about how much we were anticipating the return of some mutual friends at the end of the month, then wished each other a great year to come.
Had I known he had only a few more minutes left in his life, I wonder what I would have said to him. Would I have said words of caring, inspiration, comfort, or just a long hug from…all of humanity? What if he somehow knew this was the last conversation he was allowed, and it was with me a relative stranger, what would he have said to me–words of wisdom, reflection, words to pass on to loved ones? Would he have cried, panicked, been full of fear or maybe at peace?
I couldn’t help but feel a bit reflective when I got the news of his death that evening, about how fleeting life is, and unpredictable its end. How the mundane, like buying some milk and toilet paper could be the last thing we do in this life, and then it’s done.
I don’t care how cliche it sounds. The daily challenge for me continues to be to connect a sense of wonder and delight in my ordinary living, to be present in average moments and interactions. Because even in the mundane, this gift of life we have been given, is flat out extraordinary. Our ability to appreciate the preciousness of average moments gives us unique access to a joy that is simple and unobstructed, especially since most of our lives are made up of these average and repetitive moments. I want to strive to be ever-conscious, even if it is a stretch. So even in an act of buying milk and toilet paper, and greeting a relative stranger, I can be more aware and present in that moment as one that is part of this experience that is fleeting.
