One Week, One Month, One Day

 I came by this quote in a movie....it made me really start to think....

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold on to them. They are the life boats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely illusive. So the question becomes, or should have been all a long... What would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What life boat would you grab on to? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write?


One day, one week, one month.  It seems like so little time.  Precious moments left on this earth to conquer all of the fears, goals, dreams, and ambitions that have filled every day of our lives up until that point.  It would never seem like enough time and for some it may seem hard to establish some sort of priority level on which needs to be accomplished first.  We all like to say that we live each day as our last, however when it all is said and done how much truth is really in that statement?  I certainly can not be one to talk.  I fail miserably at saying what I think and doing what I want.  I guess I feel as though I’ve hit so many road blocks in this young life of mine that I’m too timid to aspire to be much else because it is only because of those vulnerable moments where we open ourselves up to the opportunity that we have a chance to fail. 

If I knew that I only had one week of existence left I probably wouldn’t tell anybody.  I would want to keep it to myself.  Not having everybody else panicking and telling me what to do I would be able to embark on my own journey taking pictures as I go.  I would keep sleep to a minimum having only enough to feel rested but I would want to see as many sunsets and sun rises as I possibly could.  I would go back to the spot at Camp Whitney where I spent so much of my young life and sit on the dock during the wee morning hours listening to the loons, watching the mist rise, where my foundations built up within me and where I fell in love with God for the first time.  I would spend one last night at my work serving and being with the people that I love.  I would sit and talk with them until they wanted to go to bed pouring as much love into their lives as I possibly could in such a little time.  I would want to go on one more adventure with my love exploring the vast Canadian landscape.  I would want to spend the nights wrapped in his arms and days doing whatever we wanted.  I would write my family a letter telling them that life is too short to fight and hate each other and that it’s too immature to not get along over such petty differences. 

It’s funny how in those moments things like degrees, wealth, power, and material objects don’t matter.  Not at all.  I want to live my life like THAT every day.