It is my penultimate day in Germany. I face the inevitability of time as it is now time to leave here and return home. Although my train does not depart from this land until tomorrow, I feel that today really is my last day. The actual last day is always a blur and probably doesn’t count so much because it is all about logistics and getting to places on time, not forgetting anything and just generally trying to stay safe and compliant.
The reality is that no matter how far something may seem in the future, with the inevitable and constant march of time, that future always becomes the present. I walk around the house of the family where I am staying and remember various things that I said I might have done at some point before I left. And although there have been many weeks in which to do them, the fact of whether they are done or not is what I must live with. In a way, the things I have not done are not that important anyway, and I have no regrets.
I look back on my time here and confidently declare that this is one of those occasions where I know that I have not wasted a single day. Every moment, every minute, every hour is almost something that I can remember and cherish. This is not to say that I’ve been continuously working. Far from it.
Indeed, my moments here have been about work, of course. But also they have encapsulated many other things from spiritual and mental well-being to travel and exploration, to prayer and contemplation through to sweating in the commercial kitchen and finally this last stage of packing and cleaning the apartment that has been our home for just over 3 months.
I have realised during my time here that a day is a long time indeed. To those who say that there aren’t enough hours in the day, you are wrong. There are many hours in the day, and it is actually our task to make sure that we spend those hours usefully, worthily and with purpose. To understand the nature of reference and intent is what truly brings meaning to those hours. After all, as a parent, there are many times when the hours do not seem that productive. Yet, they are productive to the people that we love and touch. To the child that needs a hug or a story at bedtime. To the floor that needs cleaning because the hustle and bustle of family life have left it in their state that requires it. To the grass in the garden that needs cutting, because it is alive and well and provides a carpet upon which the children can play, learn and grow. None of those things will pay the bills or create the economic growth about which the government speaks of so regularly and monotonously. But they are things that will punctuate what we do and how we do it. They represent the tick-tock of the things that matter.
And so it is that I return to a lesson learnt about the length of a day and what we do with our days. Whether we enjoy them and live them with purpose, or look back on them as opportunities lost because we did not pursue something or other. Whatever truth you discover in yourself, be aware that it is the things around us that matter the most. The desire to create a better world has undoubtedly got to start on our own front doorstep. A better world cannot come at the expense of family relationships, connections with your dear and loved ones or decay and dirt around you. A better world requires those things to be wholesome from the beginning, a foundation on which to base your life upon.
Thus, I returned to the notion that time does not stand still, and we should use time as our tool, to shape and celebrate the world around us. To walk in its hallowed halls and remember the good that we do. Our time on this earth is limited, and we are all in the process of dying. Whether that day comes sooner or further away, it will happen to us all. And to that end, we should live that life of purpose, intent and reverence and celebrate who and what we are, not just to ourselves but also to those around us. For time does genuinely catch up with us all.