“Remember tonight… for it is the beginning of always”
I love beginnings, a fresh start, a new adventure with promises of open roads and opportunities. Energy, anticipation and hope are all wrapped up in “firsts.” As a whole, we understand what is required in the early stages: set up a plan, identity a goal, make a list, share the list. Oh, the rush of adrenaline as we race into the future. There will be an end, of course. And what a glorious feeling it will be when we come to the end of our journey, knowing that we have given our best.
Beginnings and endings are the bookends of our existence. Two points of time that frame the experiences, both good and the not so good, that nuance our lives.
And then there is always…forever.
Forever is a very long time. We may say that we will love forever and remember forever, even though we are not here forever. Since the beginning of time, however, we have been pursuing the concept of “always” with a boundless passion. Ancient Egyptians believed that death was only a temporary interlude before rebirth and a new journey. The ancient Etruscans envisioned sea horses and dolphins transporting souls to Elysium, the Islands of the Blessed. Ancient Greeks crossed the river Styx on a boat, steered by Charon.
Are we so different from the ancients? William Shakespeare, in his play Hamlet, called death: “The undiscovered country from whose bourn, No traveler returns.” This thought is echoed by Chancellor Gorkon, in Star Trek VI, The Undiscovered Country. (You may recall that Chancellor Gorkon stated that Shakespeare could only be perfectly experienced in the “the original Klingon.”)
We recognize and embrace forever for it seems to be in our DNA to press forward, to take “a next step.” Here’s a thought: what if “forever” was in the moment? That every breath we take (the average person takes between 17,280 – 23,040 per day) the possibility of always is before us. As Emily Dickinson once wrote:
“Forever is composed of nows.”