Sometimes, We Want a Do-Over: When We Are Present Enough, Mindful Enough, Maybe Every Moment Will Be Enough

Don’t we all, at some time in our lives, want a re-take, a do-over? To take back something said in haste? To re-take an exam? Be more aware of a threat coming at us so we can know better how to face or prevent it? Learn from a mistake before it’s made?

 

Such is the premise behind Mitch Albom’s book Twice: A Novel. What If You Got to Do Everything in Your Life⎼Again? A story that awakens us to the power of love, time, and each moment of life. It’s a strangely compelling book.

 

It’s also a very American novel, even though a short but important portion takes place in Kenya. It starts with public school, sports teams, young love, the pressure to be accepted for who we are, to fit in. The main character, Alfred, or Alfie inherits from his mother the gift of being able to re-take a moment of life. All he has to do is whisper to himself “twice” and he’s back in the morning before. But it’s not the word itself that does it. It’s the reality of the wish, or intention. The gift allows him to fight bullies, win friends, and pass tests, academic or otherwise.

 

The night I started reading the book I wound up spending hours dreaming it. I inhabited the story. In the novel, Alfie’s mother dies when he’s young and he can’t save her. He must grow up living only with his father, who forever misses his wife. She was in my dreams that night. Alfie has a best friend named Wesley who dies young after joining the marines. Wesley was in my dreams.

 

So, there are limits to the power. It can’t change the time of someone’s death. And when Alfie falls in love, he only gets one chance at getting that person to love him back. And there are negatives; if we think we can re-do a moment of life, moments can seem less precious. We might not commit to them, and we live at more of a distance from ourselves and others. Alfie realizes we pay closer attention to life when it’s lived in the present tense.

 

When I was teaching high school, one of my classes was called Questions. It was a philosophy class, and students were asked to inquire into the deepest questions they were willing to share. The first question of the year always concerned death⎼ how to face it, how to help others facing it, what did different philosophies and religions say about it, “why” is there death, etc. One of the books we often read was the bestselling memoir of all time, Albom’s Tuesday’s With Morrie: An Old Man, A Young Man, and Life’s Greatest Lesson. Being a teen means living a search for authenticity; Morrie met the criteria.

 

When Albom was a young man in college, Morrie Schwartz was his sociology professor. One night, years after graduating, years after not seeing his old professor, he watched Ted Koppel’s Nightline on tv. The guest was Morrie. The topic: Morrie was dying from ALS. After seeing this, Mitch decides to visit his old professor. They re-kindle their relationship, with Morrie once again as Mitch’s teacher, or coach. He gets a second chance to ask the biggest questions. They establish a new curriculum: of life, death, love and meaning⎼ and how to live with silence. Morrie had offered himself up for 14 Tuesdays as a living lesson in dying. His funeral was the final exam.

 

Alfie’s grandmother, Ya Ya, is in a nursing home for much of the novel. It’s a sad place. The residents can do little except wait for death. Alfie can’t say “twice” and stop her from aging. We all age; if we get to live until we’re considered “senior” citizens, we get the opportunity to expand our sense of self….

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Man Project.

Meaningful Rituals: Fostering Compassion, Honesty, and Social Cooperation Instead of Hate, Violence, and Social Disintegration

When I was growing up in the 1950s and early 1960s, I remember dreading many social rituals, especially those that had to do with death. I felt a funeral or memorial service, for example, was more to hide grief then help us face it. It felt like we, society, were going through the motions but had lost the substance. That was one of the messages I remember from the 1960’s, and afterwards; we needed to restore meaning to our shared social institutions.

 

Since then, our nation has developed new rituals or revived old ones, maybe ancient ones. Recently, I attended a memorial which was called a Celebration of Life of the deceased. A participant called it a tribute. Instead of the service being led by a Rabbi or Priest, someone paid to do it and not closely known to the people involved, the event was led by the husband, daughter, and friends. It involved laughter and photos shared, tears shed, and songs sung by family and friends.

 

But mostly, it was an afternoon of heartfelt stories. Instead of a campfire, we all gathered around our computers for a Zoom ceremony. And we were treated to great tales, some we knew, many we didn’t. The person came so alive to us. It was a sort of a resurrection, but without any religious attachments.

 

We valued the person and saw how valued they still were by so many. And this reminded us of our own value. By honoring one person in this way, the humanity of all of us was revealed, in a depth and breadth we hadn’t often felt before. We remembered how amazing a mother and dear friend she was, and suddenly felt befriended and loved. The deceased was seen in a larger dimension than many of us had often seen them. And in this realization, we ourselves were raised into a larger dimension.

 

Several good friends mentioned the deceased was very politically engaged, sincere, and committed, clearly illustrating with their life that the personal was political. How we act in our personal lives, with friends, family, and neighbors, is the root of the type of society we create.

 

The same thing is happening today with our political involvement, as is happening with some social rituals. Many of us had previously felt that who governed mattered little. That the voice and interests of the people were not being protected. That voting was an empty ritual. Or maybe, because we didn’t participate or weren’t allowed to, the ritual of politics lacked truth and meaning.

 

No longer….

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.