The ‘Good Times’

Regret about the past is a bitch. It can really take you down and cause you to devalue your current life, and the regret you have can act as a reference point to belittle everything.

That’s a hell of a way to start a post, but there’s a point here. Maybe.

As I was sitting on my porch in the early morning hours, under the partly
cloudy moonlight, having taken my walk and enjoying my favorite morning
beverage (drip coffee with heavy cream), I had a rushing sense of gratitude. I was grateful for where I’m at in life, grateful for my family, my home, my
neighborhood, my health and perhaps even grateful for what seems like
stability.

I’m not sure why it’s hard to be grateful, at least in these seemingly random,
a priori moments of reflection. These moments of gratitude are of the best
kind, the kind that don’t come from being under stress, or the kind that come after the misfortune of others is a reference point for your life (which just shows how self-absorbed our nature, or culture, is).

I’ve come to realize anymore that the ‘good times’, those moments that you look back in with fondness, admiration, maybe even longing, are always fleeting and ephemeral in nature. In the hustle and bustle of our go-go-go life, it’s hard to stop acknowledge that sometimes, right now, you might be living in the ‘good times’. I truly believe that you really can’t feel these moments until you come to a complete pause, stop, sit (or stand) for 10 minutes and expose your human senses to the rawness of time, standing still in a somewhat neutral position that feels almost stoic. For me, this is some form of meditation, but on a gradient, if you will; sometimes I go full meditation and clear the thoughts, and sometimes I just sit in a quiet moment.

Then again, maybe you’re living in the opposite of the ‘good times’ right now. Life is a heaping bowl of shit for whatever myriad set of reasons (I certainly can say I’ve been there many, many times in my life), but I think there can be immense value in pausing, stepping out of frame and watching the scenes of life unfold, if only for some brief moment. The shitstorm doesn’t go away, but maybe you’ll find that stoic center to reflect and categorize this moment to know that, like the ‘good times’, this will also pass.

I’m not really sure if I have a point here. The contemplation of time, events,
and maybe even Being feels mysterious, but mystery could also be just another word for magic, and what we perceive as magic could just be something not understood yet.

Maybe my point is that antidote to regret is gratitude.

I like that. Let’s end there.

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