I have an experiment I'd like you to try that you might find interesting.
I was in a play this summer, John Mighton's "Half-Life." There was a passage in the play that has really stuck with me, these lines said by the Reverend in Scene 9:
"There was a time, a hundred years ago, when people has to wait a long time to hear their favorite song. Sometimes they would wait several years between one performance and another. And sometimes they might only hear a song once.
"Imagine how well you would listen if you thought you were hearing a song for the last time. All the cares and resentments of your daily life would seem so unimportant. You'd let go of any thoughts that might distract you from the song. You would almost forget who you were."
At lunch yesterday I had a bacon quiche. I was hungry and began to eat it quickly. I caught myself. I wondered, what if this were the last time I were eating. I slowed down. I chewed it, savoring the experience, the flavor, the texture, the feeling of my teeth sinking through the food. I took another forkful, a small amount this time as I wanted it to last. The conversation at the table faded away and it was just me and this wonderful meal. I became vaguely aware that I had goosebumps.
Again and again through the meal this happened. My eyes teared up and I willed the tears away as that would be difficult to explain to my colleagues. This meal was an entirely extraordinary experience.
Before I had cancer, I never thought that the things I'm doing I might be doing for the last time. Now I think about that sometimes, and it's truly amazing how intense and beautiful everyday events can be when experienced in this frame of mind.
I invite you to give it a try, next time something nice is happening, a nice meal or a good song or watching your daughter fishing. Imagine it is the last time that you will experience this. Does it change the experience for you? I'd love it if you'd share your thoughts!
My close friends are scattered around the world and when we see each other, I can't help but wonder if it's the last time I'll see them. I don't mean this in a morbid way-- I don't think automatically that it means, "one of us may die before we meet again" but sometimes you just end up never seeing a person again, no matter how close you were.
One thing that I don't think people talk about much when talking about friendships is the role of proximity. Even the way it's expressed, denotes proximity of place, "my closest friends," "near and dear," "those that stand by you," etc.
Anyway, when we do meet, I do my best to stay in the moment and to resist the urge to relive the things we did together in the past. Sometimes it feels like the present is something we're escaping by enjoying each other's company, as if somehow we can suspend time and be the people we were.
This thing you're talking about is one of a few reasons why I don't take many pictures anymore. I like to remember things according to my impressions, as imperfect and vulnerable to time as it may be. Without that personal context, the pictures don't mean much, if anything. Because I choose to do things in this way, I also try to move on from things fairly quickly and to resolve not to go back to try to recreate things for myself.