One Moment Please
At any single moment in my life, what am I? Perhaps I don't seem to be much, short-statured seventeen-year-old student, son and sibling that I am. At any given moment these last few days I was perhaps reading diminuitively, playing soccer unimpressively, more likely clicking and typing away on my computer resignedly, or most likely sleeping - lazily and practically worthlessly. And yet, despite all this seeming insignificance, what am I really in each of those moments? I am a record and a result. I am a constant and a cotninuance. I am a potential and an opportunity. I am the past, present and future of myself - and if the precise present doesn't look so great, so be it.
At this time there are perhaps a bit more than 150 hours until I will be back in school, sitting in my calculus class. Within those hours I will likely have done quite a bit of calculus in preparation for that sitting; I'll have spent at least eight more hours on Kayhi soccer; I may get through quite a bit of the book I'm reading (Cold Mountain) or I may finish it entirely. I'm sure to get a lot of sleep. Each of these hours I'm living is in reality a multitude of uncountable yet priceless moments. In fact, all of life is an ever-growing proof and testament to the truth that the past can never be changed, and to the good advice to have no regrets. To dwell on the negative that goes by is foolhardy: It's only useful to look in the past if it'll add to what you plan in the future. Because despite all we have in our history, our present, and even the immediate future, all that is entirely necessary to the positive possibilities we all have. Without going through the desert, we'd never have been able to stand and look out on the Promised Land.
And the Promised Land isn't even land; and it's only promised because it's inevitable. It's inevitable that you and I and we can and will do great things. That is the promise that we each hold. I'm going to preserve mine, even as I waste away my spring break's moments...