Guess what? We’re halfway through NaBloPoMo, which means we’re halfway through November. I’m a little sad about that- November is one of my favorite months. I don’t want it to fly by too fast, but somehow it always does.
Last week when I wrote about running the New York City Marathon, I was disappointed that I didn’t have any pictures of the day, from either of the times I ran it. It was the 1990s so we didn’t have cell phones. I remember people carrying disposable cameras to take pictures, but that never occurred to me. I probably thought I would be running it again, many times. I didn’t know that I would move away from New York or that it would become much harder to get into that marathon.
I don’t know this for sure, but 1996 was probably the last time I’ll run the NYC Marathon. Had I known it then, I would have soaked in the experience more. Maybe I would have been one of the people with a disposable camera.
In this article, David Cain examines a simple truth: You always know when you’re doing something for the first time, and you almost never know when you’re doing something for the last time.
Everything you do, you will eventually do for the last time. If you knew it was the last time, you would undoubtably appreciate it so much more. You wouldn’t get distracted, think about something else, or get annoyed about silly things. You would be fully present and aware of every single moment.
He gives the example of picking up your child for the last time- every parent, without knowing it at the time, picks up their child and puts him down for the final time. When I read that I longed to pick up my kids again! Is it really over?
David suggests taking simple, mundane moments and behaving as if you’re doing them for the last time. Not in a depressing way, as in “If I get in a terrible car accident I’ll never be able to mow the lawn again!” but more of an exercise to become aware of how precious these activities really are. I did it the other day when I drove my daughter home from school.
It’s a neutral activity, meaning that I don’t love it or hate it. It’s okay. I wait in the parking lot of a Publix across the street from the school, and she and a large group of kids all walk across the street (this way I avoid the car line.) As I sat there, I watched all the kids enter the parking lot, in groups or alone- I looked at what they were wearing, whether they were laughing or serious, how their parents greeted them. Then I saw my daughter walk into the lot, look around for my car and walk toward me.
It was a bittersweet moment, because I’m acutely aware that there will eventually be a last day that I pick her up from school. She’ll grow up, life will go on, and I’ll look back longingly to the days where I drove her home.
But there will also be a last time I wash the dishes, or feed the cats, or turn off the TV. These moments might not seem as poignant as driving my daughter home from school, but consider that they’re also finite, Occasionally imagine that you’re doing some of these everyday activities for the last time, and see how much you find to appreciate in them.
If you like this idea, you can read more of David Cain’s articles on raptitude.com. a blog about “getting better at being human.” He writes about gratitude and being present, but not in an abstract way. He suggests exercises- like this one- that will give you a deeper appreciation for the moments of your life.
Can you think of a moment when you knew you were doing something for the last time?
Is there anything you look back on and think, “I wish I had known that was the last time!”
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My mom moved out of the house where I grew up a few years ago. I remember leaving the house and going down the driveway, knowing that it was the last time I would ever do that, but finding it impossible to imagine not going there again. It was really hard.
When my MIL was sick and on her deathbed, we had a conversation about wren nests. If I had known that was the last conversation I was going to have with her where she was coherent and herself, I might have chosen a different topic. On the other hand, I keep our birdfeeders full and there’s a wren nest in a tree in her memory.
No, I think that was the perfect last conversation to have with your MIL! Just think, you could have had an argument or discussed something unpleasant. It’s also the perfect example of how you usually don’t know it’s the last time, until you look back on it. I guess you going down the driveway of your house is the exception to that rule.
I was just reading another blog post (Laura Vanderkam) from today that touches on this topic. Someone suddenly and tragically died in a car accident over the weekend and she was reflecting on the fact no one knew when that person (a high-school principal) left school on Friday it would be the last time he’d walk those halls.
Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks touches on a lot of the things mentioned in the David Cain article. It can be a hard balance – living in the present while being mindful that life is fleeting and short and we’re all a heartbeat away from a complete and utter transformation in our lives – but I think it’s a critical thing to think through. I also believe this sort of thinking can help us recenter our priorities and more clearly identify priorities.
Almost every time I pick up my son (6 and growing like a weed) I wonder when will be the last time. I don’t pick him up much now – he’s soooo long and it hurts my back. Where did my baby go? There will definitely be a “last” time. I wonder if I’ll know it as such? Somehow I doubt it, and that makes me sad. So I try to treasure the moments now, as I’m able, knowing that there is good stuff ahead, too. Like, hopefully, someday, I’ll pick up his child and the cycle will continue.
I’ve never heard of Laura Vanderkam but I’ll check out that blog post. I think David Cain’s article was meant to be uplifting, but it does leave you with a melancholy feeling. As you said, we just have to treasure the moments as they happen. And don’t throw your back out trying to pick up your son!
Unfortunately people that have died. You never know the last time you’re going to see them.
Yes- that’s almost always the case.
I follow David Cain’s blog as well. I like his ideas and how he packages them.
As you know, my younger brother died in September. I last met him by chance at a train station on 6 January 2019. Had I only known that this would be the last time we ever met, our conversation would have been full of tears. I would have been on my knees, pleading with him to change his lifestyle.
Maybe sometimes it’s even a good thing we don’t know it’s the last time…
I like your approach, Jenny. It definitely makes us more appreciative of the present.
Catrina, it’s especially heartbreaking when someone dies like this- of course you had no idea it would be the last time you talked to him. Look at it this way- at least you didn’t have an argument or say something you regretted later. I know people who have had that experience.
Glad you follow David Cain- I think he’s incredible.
That’s a great way of looking at it, Jenny. I never thought about that. Thank you!
Catrina, I’m trying to leave a comment on your post but it disappears. I’m wondering if it’s going to spam again. I have no idea why that happens! For a while, all of Kim’s comments were going to my spam- only hers- it was the weirdest thing.
“I wish I had known that was the last time”: this is a thought related to my mom. She passed away in 2001 when she was only 70 y.o.
At that time I was too busy with my family, my job, running and swimming.
I should have spent more time with her, listening to her stories, going together to see the places where she lived before the marriage and where she took me to play when I was a child, going to make shopping with her, giving her some unexpected gifts and more and more.
I have many regrets and I miss her so much.
Thank you for giving me a way to remember her once again.
I think we have had a similar experience. My mom also died when she was only 72. I also have regrets and miss her every day! I comfort myself with the thought that she knew I loved her, even though I didn’t say it on that last day (which I so wish I had.)
Oh Jenny, I enjoyed this post so much. I think about this all the time, that we don’t know what life has in store for us and we never know when the “last” time of anything is. It’s a really way to go about your day, I think, with mindfulness and appreciation. Sometimes I will think about mundane things and say “I GET to do this” instead of “I have to do this.” It changes things. Thanks for such a lovely post!
Thank you Nicole! If you enjoyed this post I really think you would love David Cain’s blog. He writes about things like this all the time, and he does it so well. Yes, if you embrace this idea it helps you to be mindful throughout the day.
Oh, I think about this a lot… in various situations… and I am actually often acutely aware if there is something I’ll do for the last time (well, there are a few things where you know – like when I graduated highschool and I had my last day of school, or when I took the train to my university for the last time as a student). I’ll definitely have to check out David’s blog.
I actually get really sad if I know I’m doing something for the last time- and I also hate saying goodbye to people. But yes- check out David’s blog- you’ll like it.
I think about stuff like this all the time, but more in a way that fuels my anxiety so it doesn’t feel very good. Every time I get off the phone with my mom, I worry it was the last time I will have talked to her, or the last time I had a lazy football Sunday with my brother and nephew, or the last time I hugged one of my cats. It makes me really, really sad and it’s hard for me to break out of that mindset and think about the GOOD that nostalgia can bring. The memories that can be comforting rather than sad. This is something I really want to think more about because I really want to appreciate these moments, rather than wishing I had more time. <3
Yes, I agree- the point of David’s article was to be uplifting, but actually it can become very melancholy. I guess you have to strike a balance between appreciating the moments, but not letting the sadness- of thinking about last times- overwhelm you. It’s hard.
“You always know when you’re doing something for the first time, and you almost never know when you’re doing something for the last time.” Isn’t that a true sentences. I have to think about it a bit longer. For now only the moments on my grandparents deathbed come to mind. But I want to reflect a bit more. And I’ll check out the website. Thank you.
Yes, check out the website! I feel kind of bad that my post made everyone think of death. Hopefully David Cain says it in a more uplifting way.