The movie Train Dreams has been replaying in my mind ever since I watched it last week. It’s about grief. It’s about how we are all subject to the wills of the universe whether we like it or not. But our situation isn’t pitiable.
The universe is mysterious and doesn’t care about our smiles or our tears. It wants change - nonstop. You might not see the change. Today might feel indistinguishable from yesterday. But the sands are shifting and our circumstances are bound to be tossed around at one point or another.
You’ll get old. The landscape around you will evolve. The birds you admired yesterday might go extinct tomorrow. Invasive plant species might take over your garden. Change is happening and will continue to happen. Some changes are chaotic and sudden - others, slow and subtle. The movie illustrates them both with beautiful craft.
It shows the progress of industry from the start of the century to the mid of the century and how it came at the cost of nature. It also talks about drastic, more sinister changes. I don’t feel like recounting them here. Plus, that’ll be a spoiler. So how can we thrive in a universe that is always trying to pull the rug from under us?
According to the movie: “you better hold on to something.”
Hold on to your memories. Hold on to the sights, the feelings and the sounds of your loved ones. Hold on to the mundane that deeply resonated with you for whatever reason. After all, that’s what your life is: a series of memories - some remembered by you, others by those around you.
I can still see the golden rays of the winter sun flooding my childhood room. I can feel the cold iron of the balcony railing as I leaned against it to watch the fog settle over the park by my school. Most of all, I can still hear my two-month-old daughter’s very first fit of laughter.
When I was young, I was in awe of the internet. I used to see it as the world's stage - the only platform where you can touch the lives of millions of people. As I grew old, I realized that interactions over bits and bytes isn’t life.
If your career is all you think about then the only memories that you’ll likely form will be of you in front of screens, sitting underneath an artificial light - away from the sun, away from your loved ones. And you’ll remember none of that on your death bed and your laptop and your software won’t remember you either.
What defines a rich life in your final moments? I believe it is the collection of time spent with loved ones - the quiet nature walks and the long arc of watching your children grow. Tragedies will happen, and they will feel senseless. But in the end, cherished memories have a way of obscuring those shadows, dampening their impact.
So, are you optimizing your life for cherished memories? If not, stop. Then look, hear, feel & memorize!