I recently came across two stories that seemed unrelated at first, yet kept resonating within me, so I began to sense perhaps there was a link.
The first story appears in the audio program To Love and Be Loved by Stephen Levine and his wife.
It’s a story about a young couple building an extraordinary loving relationship. (I may have expanded some details a little in retelling it, but the essence remains the same.)
The couple’s journey together was not always easy. They were tested at the beginning of their relationship, yet they found ways to work through the difficulties together and grew stronger as a couple. They also shared a passion … hiking and mountain climbing. Over the years, they went on many beautiful hikes and climbs, each adventure renewing their bond and reaffirming their love.
Their greatest dream was to climb a particular mountain in New Zealand famous for its breathtaking waterfall. For several years, they talked about this adventure, putting aside money each month, until finally, on their 10th wedding anniversary, they set off to make it happen.
They arrived in New Zealand and, after a short time to acclimatise, set out for “their mountain.” The weather was perfect. The waterfall was dazzling in the sunlight, like a slow-motion movie, as the droplets shimmered in the air.
Photo by Matthew Stephenson (https://unsplash.com/@matthewryanstephenson)
They began their climb. It was tough going. The moss made the rock slippery, and the spray of the water added to the challenge. But they were experienced and moved steadily upward, pausing often to marvel at the beauty around them.
The husband climbed just ahead of his wife. During several breaks along the path, they could not stop smiling at each other. The place was so beautiful. Everything was exactly as they had envisioned it.
But then, as they reached the final level, with the full force of the waterfall in view, he turned around, shocked by what he saw.
“When I turned around, she was gone.”
He hadn’t heard anything. He hadn’t felt anything. But in that instant, he realised she was gone. Later, he repeated the sentence again and again. “When I turned around, she was gone.”
Stephen Levine didn’t go into details about what had happened. Most likely, she had slipped on one of the mossy stones. But regardless of what had caused her to fall, the man had tragically lost his wife in that very moment.
When I heard this story, I had to pause the audio. It hit me deeply. “I turned around, and she was gone.” My thoughts went immediately to my own wife. How devastating it would be to lose her.
And yet, life can change in an instant.
Stephen Levine told this tragic story, because he wanted to bring home one crucial point.
We truly have no time to waste. Every moment matters.
Life can change in an instant. We better make sure we have no regrets … that we have truly loved the people closest to us.
This brings me to the second story.
Many years ago, the Thai monk Ajahn Chah was asked: How can we be happy in a world where even the best circumstances can change in an instant … a world with no stability, no safety belt?
Ajahn Chah paused for a little while to think, then lifted a cup that was on the table in front of him. He held it up and said gently:
“To me, this cup is already broken. Because I know that at some point in the future it will indeed be broken, I can enjoy and appreciate the cup with all my heart here and now as it is still beautiful and unbroken. And then, when it’s gone, it’s gone.”
For me, Ajahn Chah’s words are closely linked to the tragic situation of the couple. I believe they remind us of the same truth.
Everything changes, and everything we love now will one day be gone.
But when we treat what we love … our “cups” … as if they were already broken, we can truly appreciate them fully while they are still here with us. We can attend to them with the care, attention, respect, and love they deserve.
If we treat our loved ones today as if they might be “gone” tomorrow, we will not only have fewer regrets when the time really comes, but we will also experience a deeper joy in every moment we do have together.
Yes, these stories may feel heavy. Life can indeed be volatile and even cruel at times.
But I want to invite you to reflect on these questions: How do you treat your “cups”? How do you treat your loved ones?
What could you do today if you remembered that our time together is fragile and they could be gone tomorrow?
What words would you say to them? What gesture of love or gratitude could you offer?
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