October 17, 2022
Greetings from the same time,
I wrote down this idea some months ago and set it aside to let it soak for a while. Then I stumbled on another idea, which felt similar. But when I put them together it was like two magnets, they were attracted except they also repelled. I put them here for us to consider:
You rarely know when it’s truly the last time you do something.
and
When was the last time you did something for the first time?
I tried to see what it was that attracted them, what they had in common. Sometimes both are a surprise. You can learn from both. Both can be meaningful, powerful. Neither should be taken for granted.
They are different. You rarely know when it’s truly the last time. You often can anticipate when a first time is coming. When it’s the first time it is often a moment of growth, and the last time is often a moment of sorrow.
The first time … you had chocolate, met your best friend, went to a concert, kissed someone, changed a flat tire, went hang gliding, held your baby, won a spelling bee. We seek out first times because they mean fun, excitement, and an expansion of knowledge and experience.
The last time … your child climbs into your lap, you saw your father, you walked out of your house, you pet your dog. It is the end of experiences, the last time we have coffee with a friend, the last time we could paddle a canoe, the last time we were free from pain. There are harder examples, which I know you can list, so we’ll leave this space for those:
With the transitions in my life this year, I recognized I was experiencing a lot of last times. As some of those passed, I felt sadness, but not in a tragic way. I saw most of these as milestones to be proud of, even as endings, they gave me something to feel satisfaction in. I am lucky that I was already wading into a life of firsts, and I think that balances it in some ways.
How does understanding firsts and lasts matter? What do we learn? How can it change things for the better? I started with realizing they happened, and what it meant to me.
A few months ago, I set out to climb Mt. Whitney with two friends, whom I love. In the first several hours, we climbed in darkness. The sky was filled with stars, who, despite their good intentions, couldn’t light the wooded canyon we hiked through.
We wound our way up the trail, and the world shrunk to the narrow beam of our headlamps. Behind us was a high-elevation valley and beyond that another ridge of mountains. And beyond that was another day.
It came gently, a soft light showing the jagged edges of the Inyo mountains. We paused, breathless from the elevation, the effort, and then from the beauty. While we stood there, the soft applause of the river nearby, the sun pulled itself over the mountain and changed the world.
It was a first for me. The climb, the challenge, the beauty, and while I’ve experienced all of those in some form, this was a first. The optimist in me says that I may be in that place again, but not in that moment with those people. That was the last time and it was the first time, a confluence of two powerful experiences. It is a gift to recognize its significance, finally.
For me, there will come a last time I see a friend, or the last time I run a marathon, or that I write words that demanded to be shared. Knowing this doesn't mean that I have to dread the future. I won’t ignore the grief, but it won’t be my life. Instead, I will try to really value each experience, knowing that one day it will dawn on me that there won’t be another like it.
The last time can also be a reason to celebrate. The key is to know when it’s happened and give it the space and attention it deserves.
As I grow older, my instinct says there will be fewer firsts, and there will be a growing number of lasts. My role is to push that, and make the most of both. Be excited and curious and create places for the first time. And to be respectful and thoughtful and recognize that each moment, each experience can be the last of its kind. Treasure them, to the last breath.
Hope this finds you holding time,
David
Copyright © 2022 David Smith
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