Memoirs of an Amnesiac

It's funny how we put so much emphasis on preparation. A whole hour play production takes days or even months of rigid practice. A boxing match takes months of vigorous workouts, just to get that much desired weight and stamina. A wedding, even when it is just a celebration, needs much careful planning and coordination. A proposal, spends not only nerves on one guy's system but also a lot of his neurons, carefully seeking out the perfect place and timing and the ring for that much-coveted "yes." But all those preparations only get to be presented in at least an hour production, not even half of the time it takes to prepare for them.

We make so much time for things that matter to us -- those moments we consider grand, yet we fail to notice those that go in between -- those slices and strips that define those moments.

An athlete singles out a familiar face among the sea of faces and draws strength there. One speech shatters silences long withheld. It reverberates through ageless chords of oblivion. A single touch that defines intimacy is about to be unleashed, like some water that accumulated in a dam. A mother tearfully caressing her newborn child. A baby holding on to her/his father's finger, a reminder that he has him/her forever trapped. A pat on one's shoulder, an affirmation of support. A tight hug in times of victory and pain. Those long cheers of triumph. Someone handing out somebody one's handkerchief. All these and more define the different moments in one's life.

While most of us rehearse and plan out on making those moments possible, the planning itself is already part of the moment. We therefore must seize each moment, no matter how trivial and inconsequential it may seem.

So plunge in, indulge in those small pieces called moments, because they define who you are and what you will be, no matter how hard you try to prepare.