Why Does It Take Us So Long to Learn What Matters Most?
Lately, I've found myself thinking a lot about what changes as we get older. Not physically, not professionally, more what quietly becomes more important. A friend and I were talking recently about the idea of being present. She kept coming back to the same thought: the present is really the only thing we have.
I've heard that idea before, many times and maybe you have too. Recently, it's landed differently. Perhaps that's one of the gifts of getting older. The words don't change. We do. The older I get, the more aware I become that life can change quickly: a phone call, a diagnosis, a loss, a celebration, a door opening that you never expected or a door quietly closing. It reminds me that today isn't a practice round for tomorrow. Today is the day we've been given.
It was an interesting summer. There was something I had hoped for a few weeks ago that didn't happen. Then, unexpectedly, it began to move in a better direction. Even now, I can feel myself holding it carefully, wondering if it will last or if disappointment is still waiting around the corner. I realized how often we live there. Not fully enjoying the good because we're already trying to protect ourselves from losing it. Maybe that's where radical acceptance has become so meaningful to me. Not because I've stopped hoping people will grow or circumstances will change but because I've learned that people are generally who they are. Life unfolds the way it unfolds. Peace doesn't come from controlling either one. It comes from accepting what is in front of us while choosing how we want to respond. There is a surprising freedom in that.
This week also reminded me of something else, that friendship carries us. I listened to Anne Lamott talking with Amy Poehler. Anne reflected that by this stage of life, very little surprises her anymore and the thing that remains true is friendship. It is friendship that is the light on the hard days. We were simply share life, laughing, listening, remembering, and encouraging one another. There comes a point where you realize that these relationships aren't just part of your life. In many ways, they are your life.
Here in North Carolina, summer is beginning to wind down. Soon, all school buses will be back on the roads. Families will settle into new routines and their calendars will fill again. And every season seems to whisper the same thing: this one won't last forever.
Maybe that's why I've been thinking so much about presence, not as another goal to achieve. But as a way of honoring the life that's already happening. I'm not sure twenty-five-year-old Sarah would have written this blog. She probably would have talked about goals, building a career, accomplishing something meaningful, or playing. Those things still matter though they don't seem to matter in quite the same way. The older I get, the more life seems to edit what's important, friendship rises, presence rises, and acceptance rises.
The moments that stay with us are often the ones that seemed ordinary at the time. A dinner we didn’t think twice about, a long conversation on the porch, an afternoon we could have easily rushed through. We rarely know while we are living them which moments will become the ones we hold onto. Maybe wisdom isn’t always about learning something new. Maybe some of it is simply becoming more aware of what has mattered all along.
Reflection Question:
What has life been quietly teaching you lately?
Sarah Currie, Ph.D., LCMHC, is a licensed clinical mental health counselor who works with individuals, couples, and families seeking greater self-awareness, clarity, and connection. Her approach blends insight with practical tools to help people move forward in meaningful and lasting ways. Explore more at Halos Counseling.