The Sacredness of the Mundane: Every Little Bit Counts
In the moments, the tiny fragments, we discover what truly matters. There are notes, sentences, and small efforts; the fine ideals we exchange day by day, from one person to another. There are the glances, the subtle sparkle in a genuine smile from a friend, or sometimes, from a stranger we pass on our path. Every little piece, every small gesture, each moment of blissful surrender where we choose to be, rather than insisting on being right. Our essence is captured not so much on paper, but in fleeting interactions, and at the brink of life's tide, as we transition to the next existence, I believe it's these small things we ultimately ponder.
In our daily lives, it's the subtle, often unnoticed moments that weave the most complex patterns of our essence. Alan Watts, with his playful insight, reminded us that life isn't a journey with a destination but music to be danced to - every note, every silence, holds its significance. Similarly, the brief glances, the quiet acts of kindness, the soft words of encouragement form the melody of our existence, each note resonating with a significance far beyond its immediate impression.
Ram Dass encouraged us to see the divine in every encounter, to understand that in the grand scheme, every detail is significant. The smile shared with a stranger, the laughter with a friend, the silent presence of a mentor - these aren't just minor details in our narrative. They are the core, the instances where we brush against eternity, where we feel most vividly alive and intertwined with the vast temporal void of existence.
Eckhart Tolle urges us to embrace the present, to recognize that each moment isn't merely a step toward something greater but a profound opportunity to be fully present. In the workplace, in the classroom, amid the hustle of progress, we often overlook this. We chase shadows of the future or echoes of the past, neglecting the sanctity of the present. Yet, it is here, in the now, that we uncover the depth of connection and meaning, where every action, every brief exchange, can open a path to a deeper understanding of ourselves and the cosmos.
At work, and at school, this understanding is sometimes lost. We are beings of movement and progress, forever in pursuit of unattainable perfection. Today, I reflect on the passing of a friend. He came to my mind today, clear as real, clear as he ever looked, in a vision, a thought, a brief sight of him when I closed my eyes. For a brief moment, I saw him again, alive; did I remember how he looked, was I accurate in my regeneration, was my non-AI Chat Algorithm capable of creating a true to life rendering? Why is this relevant or worthy of an article on LinkedIn, Mindsyndicate, or elsewhere? Simply because. Because we were friends. Because in my heart we still are. If he were here now, we would still be friends.
He covered for me at work. He guided me through situations, where his age and experience saved me from failure. We've all had those mentors, those special individuals, if we're fortunate enough to recognize them for what they are. At that time, I didn't fully appreciate what he was to me: a friend and a mentor. Indeed, I considered him a friend, but ultimately, he taught me more than I could have imagined. And yes, it was challenging at times. Being his friend, being their coworker, being their employee wasn't always easy, but I learned a great deal. Yes, there are others. We all know more than one, if we are “lucky enough” to live long enough to discover such truths.
Reflect on your life; if you're over 40, the people you've worked with begin to fade away. Some lose their way, perhaps through substances, illness, and other the diseases seldom spoken of. Then there are those lost to depression, mental illness, accidents, and other tragedies. Others lose touch with how to maintain health, so absorbed in work they neglect exercise, diet, and family time. And the last group, those who age, waiting for retirement, only to find life diminishing as expected with this phase of life; the lucky ones.
This reflection isn't meant to be sorrowful, but contemplative. I'm trying to remember how every little bit mattered. I recall the stories, the faces, pondering what happened and where they've gone, while we (the rest of us) continue, because that's just how life unfolds sometimes. But what if we could revisit those moments? Through a song, a journal, a poem, or a story. My mentors, those who taught and passed away, loved what they did in those special flashes of connection. I saw it in their electrified smiles, as they did in my charged eyes. So on this day, as I sit to write another report, visit the drill rig, lead a marketing session, or manage billing and accounting, I think of them and their lessons, and I write of them too. Rarely do I speak of them. Rarely does anyone else. Why do we so easily forget them in our world?
In Madagascar, where my wife studied in 2002, the local tribe annually exhumed and honored their ancestors' bones. What metaphorical bones of our friends, family, mentors, and coworkers are we prepared to carry now, to keep their memory alive and propel us forward? To work for 40 or 50 years only to be forgotten seems a sad fate unless you made an impact like Steve Jobs, who spoke of death's reflection to that graduating class years ago. We all know people facing illness, heartache, or the brink of demise. Here's a call to honor them, preferably while they are still alive, rather than after they're gone.
Reflecting on the loss of a friend, a mentor, a lost human being, can remind us of all of our physical existence's transient nature and the lasting impact of genuine connections. These relationships, whether brief or lifelong, challenge, nurture, and shape our journey. They teach us, often in hindsight, the value of every interaction, the significance of being present, and the transformative power of love and friendship.
As we navigate life's complexities, let's heed the lessons of these lost mentors. Let's cherish those who've touched our lives, not just in grand gestures, but in the mundane, everyday moments. In doing so, we preserve their legacy, integrating it into our own. We become the keepers of their wisdom, of their love, and of their influence, thus ever ensuring their impact continues to resonate through the world.
So this message I share, in written form, is a call to action. Tell your coworkers and mentors you love and appreciate them. Don't wait; the best time is now. Let them know they've made a difference, that you care, and that every little bit truly does count.
