I’ve been thinking a great deal about the able wings of time that so easily and inevitably take the good, the bad and the ugly experiences we’ve had with them as they go on their merry way. I find myself trying to take a leaf out of Henry David Thoreau’s book: live in the present, launch myself on every wave, find eternity in each moment; all the while finding myself faced with a tension that Paul Gauguin highlights: “Life is hardly more than a fraction of a second. Such a little time to prepare oneself for eternity”.
Love, in all of its astounding configurations, may be the thing that transcends this tension. Madame de Stael described love as a symbol of eternity that wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.” Love is the remarkable renewable resource that can, only in being emptied of itself, echo into eternity. As Leo Buscaglia said: “What love we’ve given, we’ll have forever. What love we fail to give, will be lost for all eternity.”