The Math That Makes Us Miss Life

We are impatient mathematicians when it comes to time. We want our days of suffering subtracted. We count the seconds, hoping for the equation to solve itself quickly so we can be finished with it. When pain stands at our door and knocks, we pray it pays the shortest possible visit. We all want any type of suffering to slip out the back door before we even have to learn the lesson it brought with it.

But when blessings arrive, we suddenly become time’s accountant, holding onto every fraction of a moment like it’s the last currency we’ll ever possess. We want these hours multiplied, drawn out, and reluctant to leave. We replay them in slow motion, trying to stretch the edges of joy so they reach beyond the frame of reality.

And yet… the reality is time remains neutral. It is neither in a hurry nor hesitant. It does not care for our thoughts on what it brings about. I’ve been learning this past decade that time invites all of us to change our stance as it ticks at the same pace in both laughter and lament. No matter what it presents… presence is the greatest leverage we have against the brevity of life.

Presence doesn’t mean ignoring pain or romanticizing joy. It means inhabiting them both. Letting grief have its say without letting it claim your days. Receiving every drop of good without clutching so tightly that it slips away.

In recent years, I’ve stood in both worlds… losing people left and right, while also being surrounded by moments of laughter so full they became a compass, helping me keep my balance in the midst of it all.

Time… the most valuable currency… will always do what it does. The question is are we present while standing the test of it?