It’s been a while since I added to this blog; and just about as long since I’ve talked about how long it’s been since I added to this blog. My golden pedestal is dusty, and tucked in the back corner of the room. I’m not on it right now, but I keep reminding myself that it is there, and to get back on it sometime soon, because I’m great, everyone should miss me, and I need to post more things here, to keep my writing sharp, if nothing else.
Bottom line, I’m here, you’re welcome.
Honestly, I’ve been derailed a lot lately; but who hasn’t, I guess. I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection, and working on getting a handle on what makes me tick. My writing has taken a back seat to the rest of my life, it seems; although that was never deliberate. After moving back to Seattle a few years ago, (has it been a few years already?) I got a new job, a new car, a new place to live (twice,) and a new perspective on my presence in my friends and family’s lives. I’m trying to be more present for them, if even by only a little.
I lost a lot of people last year; really special people whose absence is felt almost every day—my father, my Go teacher, my girlfriend’s father, the father of one of my greatest friends. I’d even lost people I’d long forgotten about. As we all get older, it feels more and more like the days get shorter and faster, and we’re just waiting to hear who has gone next, or for our turn to walk out the door ourselves, into whatever next world is waiting for us—should such a place exist; I will never claim to know, and I will doubt anyone who does.
I think about death a lot. It’s probably one of my greatest fears in this world; to have the end just hit me. Wham. Done. “Your contribution is no longer required, Mr. Eklund.” I also think about life a lot. I feel like there is so much more to go, even though I’m a little over halfway through the standard lifespan of a person. I have dreams and goals still; things I want to do, marks I want to make. I haven’t made much of a mark at all, it seems, despite my general outward attitude to the contrary. And yet, knowing this, I still struggle to do little more than work what I have to work, and play away what free hours I can get.
But, maybe it doesn’t matter if you make big marks, or make nothing noteworthy of yourself at all. Some will say, “Then, you should do everything you can do right now, before the end!” But, honestly, you probably don’t need to do that. There’s no way for you to know the impact you have on another person’s life, and very few people know when their curtain call will come. I have people in my life who I’m sure don’t think they do much of anything beyond simply exist, but when those existences end, I will be completely devastated.
And now, I find myself thinking, maybe that’s the point. We all touch each other’s lives in a way that’s exponential. I’ve learned things from people that I’ve shared with others. I’ve given people life-changing advice, (shocking, but true,) and I’ve been given perspectives that have also changed me. We’re all in this world together; shaping the lives we bounce up against whenever we do. We don’t choose who or when the people come and go in and out of it, but we all leave a mark when we do. Sometimes, it’s a tiny, imperceptible mark; sometimes it’s like someone has dented your whole world into an exciting new shape. We don’t even do it deliberately most of the time; we’re there, and that’s enough.
I’m sure there are people out there who think the world of me, (and you should, you’re absolutely right to,) and people to whom I was little more than a fleeting, passing ship on the sea of their own lives. But every time we all cross paths with each other, or disappear from each other’s lives, that makes another twist, bend, or dent in the shape of someone else’s world; big or small.
There are folks out there who literally wonder why they wake up in the morning. Their lives are filled with pain, or tragedy, and it feels like you are so alone and it’s never going to get better, or go away. But, whether it hurts or not, we all matter, as corny as it is to say. Everyone’s contribution is there, regardless of its size. We touch someone, even if we don’t mean to. And maybe, that fleeting time we’re here to do that makes it more special to the people who had the privilege of having your lives touch theirs. Someone was shaped a bit by me and you, and some folks weren’t; and maybe that’s what makes your short span in the universe so special.
Someday, I’ll be a jar of dust on a shelf somewhere, long forgotten. But, hopefully, even if only in a small way, my existence will shape someone else’s; and that person’s new shape will shape someone else’s, and so on. Maybe it’s not so important to be immortalized in eternal greatness—greatness fades. But, while we’re here, doing nothing, and living our lives as if we’re all just unimportant masses, our presence is still felt by others. Even after we’re gone, people are changed, simply for the gift of knowing you.
The size of the change doesn’t matter, its shape doesn’t matter, just the fact that you were there has shaped the world in some way. You blipped in, you did some random stuff, some other random stuff was affected by it, (or not,) and you didn’t even realize you were shaping the world. We’re not here very long, and we don’t have to be living our best lives, or having a good time the whole time, but that’s just how life is. You existed, and in some strange, random way, you mattered.
I think that’s the importance of the marks we all make while we’re here; even the tiny ones.
I’d better get a cool urn. One that looks like a pokéball or something.