Moment is more “eternal”. One cherishes those moments in time, in memory. Minutes are important, but quite artificial. Minutes were associated with clocking , with our mechanical society: keeping the train on schedule (as we can all attest to travel delay, with all the computers in the world, we are still stuck in airports with our luggage somewhere else).
The moment I arrived, I began to be aware of my surrounding. Began to trust: nurses, Mom, sister and cousin. I began to love them with all that was in me. I knew not hatred (that came much later). I learned to “demand” feeding (biological clock). Those moments of learning, of making friends and of course, enemies. Show me those without enemies, I will show you those without friends.
Slowly, I, we, draw a circle of trust. Of friendly faces and not too friendly ones. City kid I was. I couldn’t operate like Crocodile Dundee from a backwater town i.e. saying “Howdie” to every single passerby in NYC.
Then we all learn to avert eye contacts and rolodex contacts (unless you’re in Sales).
Moments. Of decision, agonizing decisions. Of leaving, clinging and yes, begging.
Of loss and regrets. Moments of triumph and valor. Moments of giving yourself away, unconditionally. Moments of stepping away from hiding to draw fire (and get a better satellite signal) like Seal team Michael Murphy. Like Todd Beamer “Let’s roll” (to rush the terrorists of UA-93).
Once, my brother and I faced an intruder who knocked on our door, apparently drunk. He asked for a girl’s name, perhaps living next door, then when the answer was No, he drew his handgun. We were lucky to survive the incident. Of course the police came, moving from left to right to “all clear” the stairs. Those were near-miss moments. Or when the heli-blades looking for random necks to chop off on our way out of the country.
Moments. Of holding our babies after the nurses had hosed them down. We came with chords still attached. Bonding. Becoming. And one day, burnt into the four winds, to become One with matters.
At least that’s my choice: to have my then-ashes blown into the four corners of the Earth (actually, the Earth curves, hence I will be in a continuous unending flow, attaching to whatever comes my way, of interest, like Arts, Music and Movies.)
Minutes are boring e.g. waiting for a turn signal, in line for “fast” food, and as I mentioned above, for your stand-by ticket to be issued so you can go home (after trying to pack in anticipation of the trip). Minutes are long, moments last a lifetime. We forget about the long wait when moment arrives.
Moments we know were our last conversation with friends, with father, mother and yes, teacher. In Vietnam where I grew up, teachers don’t converse with students. We had few memorable moments with them (on a camping trip). But most time, it’s lecturing and admonishing. Moments of getting a diploma, a prize and a milestone crossed. Moments that last a lifetime: dare to love, to express love, to give love (and get rejection in return).
Moments of stupidity, of hoping against hope, of clinging to mirage, another turn of the dial etc…Minutes might go by before we realize it’s our moment to call it quit. The hardest decision. Choose the lesser for the sakes of others. Sacrifice. An act of deliberate altruism. Of giving. No longer ours. It’s then theirs. Letting go. Opening up and being vulnerable.
We remember moments, and forget minutes. Our memory is there to store moments, memorable ones. More precious than gold. It’s ours. An embrace, a moment clinging too long, so long, Goodbye.
Moments last. A preview of Eternity. Everlasting. Beyond time and space in nano forms looking back at cherishable moments on Earth. Of roles we play: sons/daughters, cousins and siblings. Of being boy and girl friends, of learning to trust and to let go.
Moments of heart throbbing and heart-breaking. Obsession and passion. First love and honeymoon. Then all those moments, positive and negative, added up to make a tapestry called Life. I still remember those moments of fear, near-miss, joy and sadness. Fun and disappointment, favor done to me and vice versa. Then I realize, I will have to go into it (the End) alone, the opposite of my arrival surrounded by nurse, mom, sister and cousin. It would be symmetrical to go out surrounded by the female species. I wish. Like a French flick “the Man who loves women”.
Meanwhile, at any moment, I learn to let go. To be at the ready for a “Let’s Roll”, metaphorically, whether on UA-93, or a tennis court, or God forbid, on a high-speed freeway. Moments are more conscious and costly than minutes, which mercilessly tick on, even when we no longer are aware of our surrounding. Birth embedded burial. We cry at birth as evidence of a one-way long lonely journey, with NO CHOICE except to travel in Time dimension, minute by minute. With minutes, we just exist. With moments, we actually live.
Thang Nguyen 555 