In The Meantime
A couple of years ago I went on a 54 mile, 5 day, hike in the backwoods of Montana in Glacier National Park with my friends Jake and Chris. What I later learned was the area is dubbed Grizzly Country for the high number of grizzly bears in that area.
When opportunities like these present themselves, I just like to say yes. Little did I know how incredibly challenging it was going to be. Each day we walked an average of 10 miles up and down the rocky, dense, mountain terrain.
The first day we were determined and driven as we zigged and zagged, and went up and down. By the end of the day we began to allow the reality of what we were doing sink in. As the second day began, we started much like the first, but a whole lot more sore. We were focused on reaching that day’s destination, head down, legs moving, swiping through all the thick brush. Moral was definitely getting low.
As we continued to move forward, it was a couple hours in that Jake stopped us and said, “Guys, stop, look…look.” As we paused, gasping for air, we began to look around. The sight was in and of itself breathtaking. The view was one that very few people ever see in person and there we were staring at it with our own eyes. We began to talk about how we had been so focused taking the next step, accomplishing the next milestone, that we weren’t actually doing what the hike was intended for. Soaking up the moment, and being awe inspired by the place we found ourself in. We decided we wanted to change how we viewed and lived out this experience.
Isn’t that scenario so true about life? How easily do we fall into the pattern of just getting through the day, or through a challenge, or achieving another accomplishment, that we realize we’ve been living on full speed cruise control like a tesla? I know I find myself in that place often. I hate that. What am I in such a hurry for? To get old (no offense to anyone)?
My daughter is already nearly nine months old, and I can’t believe how fast it’s gone. I had a friend share with me that the days are long, but the years are short. I’m finding that to be true.
One of the issues is that we are living in a perpetual mode of consumption. Time seems to go by so much faster when you’re constantly pulled into our screens. A recent stat showed that the average person spends over two and half hours on social media a day. I’m guessing that doesn’t even include the hours in front of a tv.
Combine that time wasted, with all the time we spend worrying about or grinding for the future, and your daily hour glass for memorable moments gets pretty low.
I believe that now more than ever we must be relentless in our pursuit of living our “in the meantime” well.
We often love and admire many of the attributes that Jesus lived out, yet simultaneously seem to not want to mimic them. Though he had a mission and a purpose, most of the time he rarely seemed in a hurry. He found himself reclining at a good meal with friends, walking slowly through the crowd, and patiently teaching in the open air. He lived at a pace that allowed him to take in what was around him and to be awed by the moment.
I want to be much more like that. One of the ways I have been working on this is that I set social media timers on my phone. I have a 20-minute timer on Instagram, 10 minute on Facebook, and 10 minutes on all the others. And my wife set the passcode, so I can’t cheat and add more time. It’s so freeing. Just that little hack alone has brought my weekly screen time down immensely.
I just don’t want me or you to spend the next ten, twenty, thirty years head down focused on consuming or reaching the next mile stone, that when we finally look up, we realize we missed all the things that truly make us come alive.
In the meantime, focus on being here.
Enjoy moments spent with friends, in person, not just virtual them. Enjoy the occasional deep belly laugh you get with others and pause to be thankful. Take a step outside in the morning and take a deep breath, and maybe get lost in the moment for a few minutes. Miss a call more often because you literally forgot where you put your phone down in the house. Let your bare feet touch the beaded-up dew on the grass to remind yourself you are an alive human being. Write a postcard to a friend telling them how much they mean to you. Meet a neighbor. Write your thoughts. Remind yourself that If the sparrows are accounted for that you surely haven’t been forgotten. Pay for someone’s meal. Eat some broccoli, because in this processed world your body is probably screaming for it. Just stop, and see, and allow yourself the space to be awe-inspired.
The ultimate goal is to live a life, more aware!