Forever Is Composed of Nows
What happens when we stop treating life as preparation for something else
Sylvia Plath once wrote, “Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.”1 I’ve been circling these lines for weeks. Not long after, I stumbled across another quote, often misattributed to Homer’s Iliad: “Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” It turns out, though, it’s actually from the 2004 film Troy, which I haven’t seen.
Certain times of the year always pull me into the question of time. Perhaps it’s the seasons shifting, or the strange urgency of the year’s end. Time has a way of catching me in its undertow – hovering between the past, who I used to be, and the future, who I’m trying to become. Not quite here, not quite there.