I was driving to work this morning, leapfrogging across the radio dial in search of something worth listening to, when I suddenly realized that I had wound up where I was at that particular moment–geographically and chronologically speaking–without really being conscious of it. In fact, for a few seconds, I thought my three-year old son was still in the car with me–even though I had just dropped him off at preschool less than five minutes before.
I guess what concerns me about this is not so much that I may experiencing some early onset of senility or another mental affliction, but instead I’m wondering how much of my life is spent similarly, on auto-pilot, not really being in-tune with what’s going on around me. Though, based on other people’s behavior–their driving especially–I’d guess that I’m still leaps and bounds ahead of most people when it comes to awareness.
I’m sure that the hectic pace of life at times is what contributes to this mental detachment, and that we don’t always have the time, energy, or inclination to take the time to acknowledge and savor each and every moment of our lives–even though our time in this world is woefully limited and therefore precious. But just how much of our lives are spent simply going mechanically about our daily routines without being truly aware and lucid? And how much time have we let pass by us relatively unnoticed? Time that we will never, ever get back. I suppose that if I were to give this too much thought, it would probably send me spiraling into an abyss of self-loathing and regret–but that would be yet an even greater misuse of time.
It’s curious that I can readily recall memories and information from my childhood and young adult years far more easily than I can remember what I ate for breakfast this morning. And I would argue that the reason for this (aside from the fact that I was more carefree back then) is because I believe I was more in-tune with my life back then, and therefore my experiences took on greater significance–because I bestowed upon them that greater significance.
It’s a shame, really. It may be unrealistic, but ideally, shouldn’t we regard every moment of our lives as somehow significant and noteworthy to some degree–no matter how mundane it may seem at the time? I think we are too weighed down by an onslaught of petty distractions that divert our attention from the miracle that is our very existence on this planet–something that we all take for granted. Perhaps Henry David Thoreau said it best in Walden, when he advised us all to “simplify, simplify”.
It may be time for me to read that book again…