What is life?

I sit here and ponder this four letter word as the clock ticks loudly in my ears, distracting me, haunting me. Each second equals a past, a moment gone that can never be returned. What could have been in that last second, minute, hour, day? Is this all life is? Wondering, pondering, listening to the tick-tock? Waiting for the hand to stop?

Contrary to popular opinion, life is more than having fun, I come to realize, hearing laughter float up to my second story window above the passing cars on the street. Not every moment are you going to have a smile on your face and your own laugh ringing in your ears. It may be hard, it may be lonely- a couple things I’d rather not care to admit. This life that is wrapped up in days and years may knock you down so hard you can barely get up again and leave you with a pain so sharp no earthly thing can help in lessening it.

I stare hard at the page before me, thinking back, remembering the past. Pent up anger and bitterness weigh down on your chest, secrets that come unburied, lies that are told, deceits that are laid, so much heartache and pain, and I begin to wonder if this four letter word is worth it all. What good is it if happiness is spoken of like an unattainable dream, and you always find yourself wading out in self-pity’s stream?
But then my pen falters, and I take in a breath as my eyes grow wide and I think, “In all my ponderings and deliberations I never once thought, what if this life isn’t all about. . .me?”  

I stand at the notion, pacing the cold wooden floor, the incessant tick-tocking seeming now to match the racing pace of my heart.

What if life is more than petty emotions and missed opportunities? What if it’s a journey with hills and valleys, a race that’s to be run not with negative expectation of the next valley to be trudged but with the exhilaration of the hope of being atop that next hill, basking in the latest accomplishment of. . .life? A walking, running, living, piece of art. . .on display for all to see and though perhaps each one looked upon with a different perspective, each with its own unique sort of beauty.

I realize, no, it’s not all about me and constantly thinking he didn’t do this, or she said that! It’s not about reliving my past and being knocked down by it in my present! No!

True, this life isn’t all about having fun nor is it to be enveloped in the idea that it’s nothing but hardship and emotional suffering.

It should be seen as an opportunity, a path leading to a purpose, a divine privilege. An age to lift up a new generation and an honor to gain wisdom from the last. A destiny to be undertaken, a book waiting to be read, a heart to be touched.
With every breath we take we can choose our next direction, whether it be right or wrong, and yet still if we choose the wrong, forgiveness awaits.
Life is not something to be wished away, but rather an adventure to be taken, a legacy to be left, an occasion to be more than what is expected of you.

I stand here and ponder, listening to the tick-tocking of the clock, no longer concerned with the passing seconds, only with the seconds to come. And I realize, life, the real kind that leaves a lasting impression, is a choice. Everything else is just merely existing.

By: Gina Bovyn