Carved in Time: our Human story.
The magic of being human. The awe of being alive.
"Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately, it kills all its pupils." (Hector Berlioz)
This being human — what a wild, wondrous condition it is.
It weaves together the fundamental strands of our existence, embracing our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions in one intricate, messy, extraordinary tapestry. It is a collection of so many things: birth and growth, love and longing, dreams and disappointments, conflicts and celebrations, and ultimately, death.
We walk through this life together, sharing universal experiences — sadness, anger, fear, grief, loss — but also joy, love, wonder, and the relentless search for meaning. Sometimes because of the chaos. Sometimes despite it.
I believe that every soul, at some point, whispers into the universe: "What is the meaning of it all? What is my place in this vast, spinning cosmos?"
Being human also means grappling with the questions of morality, the tug-of-war between good and evil, and how we find purpose in a world often shaped by the few who have lost their moral compass.
Dates and Memories
There are some among us who carry a rare gift — a condition called hyperthymesia — the extraordinary ability to recall almost every day of their lives in vivid detail. Dates, weather, conversations, emotions — all preserved like sacred entries in an internal diary.
I am in awe of those who can do this. I marvel when old friends recount, with stunning clarity, who went out with whom in high school, who said what at which dance, and where all those once-familiar faces are now.
Mere mortal that I am, I mostly remember events in relation to what was happening in my own heart at the time — and sometimes, truthfully, only when Facebook reminds me: "Your memories on this day."
We often anchor memories to milestones — birthdays, graduations, holidays, heartbreaks, homecomings. But memory, fickle and fragile, is not a perfect recording. It is shaped by emotion, by perception, by who we were in that moment.
For me, I have learned to store only what matters. I choose to acknowledge the hard days, heal what needs healing, and then — move forward. I refuse to give pain a permanent monument in my life.
Still, some dates are carved into my soul:
April 16, 2018 — the day my Irish adventure began. It cracked open my world and changed me forever.
April 27, 2022 — the day I returned to the country of my birth, to embark on a new chapter. Two years and eleven days later, a visa in hand, I stepped into a new life alongside my son and his family.
Now, I stand on the edge of new celebrations:
My first birthday in a new land.
My first year completed in this new life.
My second Mother's Day — finally feeling the full joy of it again, with one child close enough to say, "Happy Mother's Day." Two other continents hold my two girls and their families, it will not be my arms to hold them.
The Beautiful Truth
Time flies. Things change. We grow older. But if there's any secret worth learning, it is this: Hold fiercely to the magic of being alive.
"I don't believe people are looking for the meaning of life," Joseph Campbell once said, "as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive."
I know I am. I hope you are too.