Moments

Moments. What’s in a moment? The concept of a moment can be described in many ways. 

Scientifically, physically or emotionally.

To me, moments are a non-existing reality. An event that has happened, you remember it, but are no longer tangible – can be seen, touched, heard, smelled, or tasted. A moment that was once actual that becomes like melting ice that eventually dries up – with no mark.  

You’re probably wondering where I am going with this post.

Well, I have a habit – might I add, a mentally draining one – where I find moments, moments, I don’t want to let go of (for whatever reason), and I am often stuck in and begin to dissect them – trying to find an answer, a reason, just something, to understand the moment.

Recently, someone close to me – my grandfather – has passed away. All I could think of when I got the text message from my sister that read “He passed away...” is the moment. The moment I read about it, where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing. As I got into my car, drove home – I was still in denial. I understood what I was being told, but at that moment I didn’t want to comprehend it. 

That day – from going to the Masjid to the graveyard - there were moments, moments that separated what was real and what was surreal. For a moment, my grandfather was alive. He was there. But then there was that one moment – when I knew, really knew he no longer existed.

And I was stuck in that moment. 

I felt anger, denial, grief, sadness...and I am still dealing with acceptance.

We all know that death is inevitable. It’s the “real” truth of life. I also know, our existing is temporary, but how often do we think of that? Think of the day we will die? We usually don’t. We carry on with our day as normal...

Wake up. Brush our teeth. Go to Work/University/School. Eat Lunch. Nap. Watch TV. Eat dinner. Sleep. Whatever it is. We do it every day.  

That day my grandfather passed away, I thought to myself – we just lost someone dear to us, we will mourn him, but...we have to move on? Eat, sleep, and go back to work – like nothing has really happened. Even though it did. 

He then becomes just a memory.

Then there is that one day – where you remember a special day, a conversation, a face expression, of your loved one who passed away – but you can no longer create another moment with them, and when you remember a previous memory it somehow dissolves away – you remember it, but the details starts to blur.

And then, there is that moment where you realize that one day that person will be YOU.

This...this is just one of my “moments” that I have been going through.

And here’s a newsflash – I get stuck in moments. I get stuck to the point I often forget that time has passed away. I get stuck in moments, because I want to hold on to them and not let go and not have them become just another distant memory.

Lately, to some, I have come across as aggressive and reckless. I admit. I have been. It’s because I have been stuck in a moment for such a long time and I can’t seem to let go and allow things to take their course naturally. 

This last month quite a few things has happened – from a high to going to Crossfit Asia Regionals, to lows, such as; the need to quit my full-time job, the passing away of my grandfather, and injuring my back which limited my training to a large degree (in my opinion.)

Through this last month, I realized by being in stuck in some “moments” didn’t allow me to create other moments, and I have been trying to break free. Although, I am still stuck in “one of the moments” that may or may not explain some of my reactions – all I know is, in life, there are no perfect or right moments for anything. 

I am well - living, breathing, walking, eating , probably talking bullsh*t right now? – All I know is that I should take each day as if it’s my last, because I never know if I will ever wake up the next day and see the sun again.

 

Leaving you all with a poem I wrote two years and a half ago...seemed relevant.

Because death is
nothing
but
a bleeding cord
waiting to be played.

Because life is
nothing
but
a last breath
about to be slaved.

No matter
what words
are to be said

about the stay
about the departure
It is all
a beginning’s
end.