The Moment vs. the Lifetime
Growing up, I did not daydream about moments or events. I dreamed in lifetimes. While mowing the lawn, I imagined becoming a Che Guevara-type freedom-fighter in the post-Apocalyptic United States. This story covered my rise to power through a series of miraculous gorilla warfare victories, followed by a brief stint of opulence and potential debauchery as leader of the new America. There was a military coup and a fall from grace, but after a brief banishment, I returned on the wings of glory… etc. Even now, I don’t dream of winning an Oscar or writing a best-selling book. I dream the whole timeline. It’s about the narrative arc – the series of rise and falls leading to glory and legacy.
I don’t know if this is unique to me or if everyone does it, but it’s also how I think of my life. I don’t view today as itself, but rather as a part of the whole. I don’t really care if I have a good day; I want a good life. But I’ll only know if I’ve had a good life when I get to the end. Until then, I’ll always be wondering if a good moment will last or a bad one is coming. I won’t enjoy the moments because I’m concerned with the whole and by the time I’ve had the whole, it will be too late to enjoy it.
Being concerned with one’s whole life puts inordinate pressure on the day. I expect it to be a meaningful and progressive piece of the puzzle taking me from where I am to where I want to be. Days become discouraging when they don’t appear to be doing so. I was irrelevant and anonymous yesterday, I’m anonymous today, and tomorrow, I’m just going to go to work and do the same thing I did today, so I’ll be anonymous then, too. I’m going to be irrelevant and invisible forever and nothing’s ever going to change. Of course, this isn’t true. Today is not always a good representation of tomorrow, and far less the further it is projected.
Alan Watts describes waking up Monday morning and being filled with dread. We take on the stress and emotions of what will be waiting for us in a few hours, but all we’re doing is lying in bed. If we just dealt with that – the actual circumstances we’re actually dealing with – they would be far easier to handle than the weight of vague, impending, potential circumstances. Imagine carrying the weight of not just the rest of the day, but the rest of one’s life. And imagine doing that on purpose when one could just as easily not.
It’s not particularly challenging to endure daily life. What’s challenging is the prospect of enduring sixty years of it. Sixty years of mundane tedium, existential dread, and future uncertainty is too overwhelming. But I don’t have to go sixty years of this. Heck, I might not even have to go one more year of this, for all I know. There’s no sense carrying the weight of more than there actually is. All I have to carry is this, right here right now.
There’s comfort in knowing we are not called to be faithful with our whole lives. We are called to be faithful with the moment we have been given. When the next moment comes, we will be called to be faithful with that, but until then, it’s not ours to carry. John Piper calls it “future grace.” Like daily manna, God only gives us the grace to deal with what is in front of us. We have to trust that when the next thing comes along, He will give us grace for that, too.
This is just a long way of saying we should live in the present moment. Which turns out to be the only place we can live, anyway.
J.
June 13, 2023