if this is the last time?

how would you want to experience this moment

When Eleven came to us as a 2-month-old kitten, it was the depth of winter. In all her (and our) nervousness about getting to know each other, on an especially cold winter evening, Eleven came and cozied herself in my lap. It was the cutest thing I had experienced. Through the winter, she would come and with the level of entitlement that only a cat can have, come and settle in my lap whenever she wanted. One day, it started becoming warm. The next winter, she had grown too large to do it again. Ever since I have often wondered how I would have experienced it differently if I knew that I was experiencing it the last time. 

Eleven and me, getting to Inbox Zero together (2017)

Many times, I have found myself in a restaurant and halfway through the meal thought - “This is one of the best meals I’ve ever had. We have to come here again” Innocent thought. But what does this create? It fractions the enjoyment available to me during this meal. The uncertain plan for the future loosens the attention I have in enjoying the meal in front of me right now. 

How many of our meals pass without truly tasting them? How many friends do we meet that we don’t know we may never meet again, but we spend that time with them split between the conversation and our phone? How many sunsets have we watched, comparing them to an old memory of a sunset we barely remember from an exotic location that we traveled many years ago. 

The Tigers and the Strawberry

“A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled with the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away at the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!”

(translated by Paul Reps (Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, New York: Anchor/Doubleday, 1958)

Zen Parable - The Tigers & the Strawberry illustrated by me

This Zen parable means a lot to me. It’s a parable about finding deep beauty in each moment, no matter how challenging or uncertain. The mice represent Time relentlessly consuming our limited life. And at this moment just before imminent death, he notices the strawberry and savors its exquisite sweetness

The strawberry represents the opportunity presented to us in every single moment. The only choice we have is whether we observe, eat, and enjoy the strawberry for all its deliciousness. Whether we enjoy or ignore the strawberry, we will still get eaten by the tigers. It is our conscious decision to be present and savor the richness of life that makes the difference.

So what can we take away from this? 

I would say it’s this: to attend to the present moment that is in front of you with all your attention. 

It’s not time that is the scarce resource, it’s our ever-so-split attention that is incredibly limited. We have enough time, but when our attention is split between so many things, we feel that it just passes away. But when we are present in the richness of the moment, we lose our sense of time. 

One simple tactic I have found recently is to simply ask myself the question - what if this is the last time I will experience this? 

If that is true - I would want to give this moment my full attention. I would want to give my full presence to whatever is in front of me now. To see, hear, smell, feel, and taste that moment in all its richness. To feel the feelings that arise within me in the presence of whatever has presented itself in front of me.  

And then let them go. 

So I can experience this new moment in its fullness. Without a past or future. 

Then this moment. 

And now this moment…

I wish that you keep noticing & deeply enjoying the strawberries in your life. 

- Pious