May you live life, not count its every second

Tick tock: Peri Strathearn's watch. Photo: Peri Strathearn.
Tick tock: Peri Strathearn's watch. Photo: Peri Strathearn.

On a recent Sunday, I sat in a garden chair on the grounds of the Round House, Murray Bridge, during Silent Ripples' memorial service, slowly toasting in the unlikely sunshine of a winter afternoon, watching the second hand on my watch as it stuttered around in a circle.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Fractions of a lifetime crept past as Andrew Allanson played his music, like shavings falling from a piece of wood.

Tick.

Each one passes only once.

They're precious, each of these moments.

Tick.

It's hard not to get a bit anxious if you ever get caught up thinking about the vastness of the universe and our individual insignificance within it, against a backdrop of centuries and continents and forces we could never hope to control.

(Usually these thoughts arise sometime after midnight, perhaps around a fire, perhaps prompted by an adult beverage.)

It's hard not to think about loss, about the loved ones and strangers who have gone before us into the darkness, into the light, wherever they might have gone.

But these ticking, ticking moments are not just something to be lost, not just a countdown to the inevitable fate that awaits us all.

They are something to be counted, collected; or better yet, something to ignore while you're out there living a life, something to be neither worried about nor focused upon.

Watch the clock and you'll get nothing done.

Don't count down the seconds to the end; count up the seconds you've had and have yet, despite the cosmic unlikelihood of it all, despite all the challenges you've faced in life, despite all the haters in this world or within your own mind.

Tick.

I hope you, too can fill your days and leave none of them empty.

Enjoy the sunshine and the music, and try not to sit staring at your watch.

Peri Strathearn

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