Keeping An Eye On Eternity...

Unique Perspectives: Keeping An Eye On Eternity...

By Kim Stevens

Keeping An Eye On Eternity…

I was away last week visiting my family in Florida. It was a wonderful visit. We are closer than ever, and it felt so good to be near them.

I changed my flight home so I could fly back with my son, which gave me the opportunity to spend the night at his girlfriend's house.

She has this incredible loft apartment above her house that is just magical. Words could never quite do the experience of staying there justice. I wish I could bottle the smell alone. Freshly sawn wood mixed with the sweet green smell of nature coming through the open windows, with a hint of Sugarloaf candle and incense.

I slept like a baby.

The next morning, I got up early to do "my thing," and I noticed a book on the table: Upstream by Mary Oliver. I've heard of the book, and of course I've loved Mary Oliver, but I'd never read it. So I picked it up and read the back cover.

"Something is wrong, I know it, if I don't keep my attention on eternity."

I know exactly what she means. In fact, I think this is what I have been writing about, thinking about, and practicing for years: How do I keep my attention on eternity while navigating the material world?

Because I still have to pay the mortgage. I still have to wash the clothes, handle legal issues, get checkups, answer emails, solve problems, make decisions, and deal with people.

That's life. But what I have learned, and continue to practice, is how to do all of those things without allowing them to become the whole thing. To be in the world, but not entirely consumed by it. To deal with what is temporary while keeping some part of my attention on what is eternal.

Interestingly, one of the ways I do this is something I wrote about in my very first Unique Perspectives blog. Volume 1. As I write this, I'm on Volume 167.

The exercise is simple: To write out what you want the people to say about you at your funeral. Your friends. Your family. Your colleagues. The people who knew you well and maybe even the people who only encountered you briefly.

I've said many times that answering that question changed the trajectory of my life. It continues to be one of my North Stars for how I live.

And I realize that a funeral might seem like a strange way to think about eternity. But not to me. Because I believe my spirit is eternal. And I believe that how I do this thing called life matters beyond the immediate moment.

Not because I think I can get life "wrong." I don't believe that. I believe it matters because goodness reverberates. The kind gesture matters. The encouraging words matter. Turning the other cheek matters. How I do what I do, matters.

The smile at the little kid sitting in the shopping cart matters. Thanking the server matters. Putting up an inspiring poster because you thought your colleagues might need to see it matters.

And maybe that's the dance. We pay the mortgage. We wash the clothes. We handle the problem.

But we don't confuse any of those things with the whole of our existence. We keep some part of our attention on eternity.  On love. On spirit. On beauty. On kindness. On who we are being. On the energy we bring into a room and the energy we allow into ourselves.

Because perhaps the real art of living is learning to take care of the things that matter today, while remembering what matters forever.