What The Hands Will Remember

Today is an anniversary. It's an anniversary of something that I let slip away, but I'm doing okay with it oddly enough. Marking time. Anniversaries are interesting because simply put, they are moments that pass through our lives, but for a variety of reasons, these special dates have meaning. Sometimes they're reminders of joy, a renewal of commitment and affection, and other times they're sobering and solemn. Growing up I always associated the word 'anniversary' with happy times, but as I've grown older I realize the level of gravity that word actually has. It can mean happy times, but it seems as we move through life and slowly weigh ourselves down with experience the word itself becomes heavier. We begin to attach deeper experiences to that word, both good and bad, and it almost changes meaning and becomes a word that is difficult to recognize. 

I struggled to be present, to open myself fully, and because I failed them, I failed myself as well. Like two hands that join together side by side and submerge into a deep blue pool of water, we let the intoxication of newfound love wash over us and fill us up. As the hands lifted, they were complete, saturated with the presence of water from the endless pool. As the water filled the hands, so too did the love fill us. But the most unrelenting thing known to exist is time, and as time passed, the water slipped through the cracks in our fingers. The love still existed, but its shape had changed; perhaps the oxytocin that flowed through our intertwined bodies wore away, or maybe it was simply the law of diminishing returns taking us out. With the water eventually returning to the endless deep blue, all that was left were the two hands. They are different now. The blood vessels have shrunken, causing the surfaces to wrinkle. The hands look different to one another, and slowly they begin to separate, attempting to adjust to this new but temporary state of existence that is somewhat unfamiliar. The water still lingers on both of them for quite some time, but it takes just that - time. Soon enough, the hands will dry, the blood vessels in the fingers will expand again, and they will feel somewhat normal. But the reality is that those hands will never touch the same water together twice. Every moment is unique and solitary, and that is a precious thing that we all take for granted. Tonight I meditate on the fact that every moment is special and distinct, and it is for that reason that this anniversary, October 5th, holds its own unique gravity, and I choose to celebrate it. Tomorrow will be October 6th. The day and month are the same as they were 364 days ago, and that is the only thing that is ever promised to be the same in life.