Sunrise, Sunset
Uncle Time with Abby and Luke, circa yesterday or seven years ago. Same difference.
May 23, 2021
_____________________
“Time does not pass, it continues.”
-Marty Rubin
The first time I saw the famous musical, Fiddler on the Roof, I was about seven or eight years old. My sister was in the play as one of the “townspeople,” and I thought she was just about the coolest person walking for its entire run at the University Theater at the University of Hawaii in Hilo. I went to at least a dozen of the showings to watch my sister do her thing, and I even convinced my grade school teacher to take my class to a matinee. I was so impressed to see my sister doing something so grown up.
The play became a lifelong favorite, despite its serious subject matter (anti-Semitism) and its depressing ending [SPOILER ALERT] - an entire Jewish village exiled from western Russia. In retrospect, I love it as the story that introduced me to what became my professional interest in European history. But the play’s real hook for me and millions of others is its music - I know every single song by heart. Each of them hits on something universal in the human experience - some are hilarious, others are strong and powerful, still others are touching and romantic, and a few are absolute tearjerkers.
One of the most powerful of that last category is from the wedding scene - “Sunrise, Sunset.” Sung by the play’s main characters, the father Tevye and his wife, Golde, as their oldest daughter marries the village tailor, it’s a song that every parent who sees the child grow up and move out of the house and into adulthood can relate to deeply. In case you’re not familiar, here are the lyrics (but you should really check out the version from the 1971 film, too):
(Tevye)
Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?
(Golde)
I don't remember growing older
When did they?
(Tevye)
When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?
(Golde)
Wasn't it yesterday
When they were small?
(Men)
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
(Women)
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze
(All)
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears
(Tevye)
What words of wisdom can I give them?
How can I help to ease their way?
(Golde)
Now they must learn from one another
Day by day
(Perchik)
They look so natural together
(Hodel)
Just like two newlyweds should be
(Perchik & Hodel)
Is there a canopy in store for me?
(All)
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears
I’ve been thinking a lot about this song over these past few days, as I am in Colorado for my nephew’s high school graduation. Luke is the younger of my sister’s two children. His sister, Abby, graduated from the same school three years ago. Luke is headed off to Arizona for his first year of college in a few months, where he will study to become an airline pilot. Abby, meanwhile, is staying in-state to finish her degree in elementary education, and will likely be doing her student teaching in the same neighborhoods she’s known as home for most of her life. Both of them are beyond excited to take these next steps forward, especially after a year of COVID lockdown. My sister, brother-in-law, and parents are beyond proud of them. I am, too, of course.
We all wonder where the hell the time went.
All of us except for Abby and Luke, I’d wager. For them, times like graduations and end-of-school-years are times for getting excited about a well-earned break and then, the next steps into the future. That is as it should be.
Meeting Abby, Summer 2000. She’s been giving me Side-Eye since Day One.
And yet, for me oftentimes (and I’ve seen the rest of my family battle with this during my stay), these times can be affected by looking back in time or worrying about what comes next for the kiddos (who aren’t kiddos anymore, damn it. See?) and for the rest of us. That’s probably normal for those of us who are older, since being aware of one's mortality only increases as we age. We can’t really escape it, nor should we look past or downplay the beneficial perspectives the passage of time can give us.
And yet, I’ve also been realizing lately that it’s not constructive for me to spend too much time looking back (unless it’s That Was So Awesome as opposed to I Wish I Had(n’t) or Should Have) or looking forward with worry. Neither does much more than pull me away from the enjoyment / appreciation / tackling of the present and make me miserable. Yet it is so easy, even with that conviction, to fall into doing both. I caught myself yesterday, in the midst of Luke’s graduation, drifting off into some morbid self-reflection on my past mistakes, immediately followed by a bout of anxiety over steps coming up in my life. Fortunately, I recognized what was happening after a few minutes and pulled myself out of it. I tapped into some techniques I’ve learned for getting present and out of that past / future torture cycle, did a lot of breathing, and opened myself up to whatever entered into my head in that calmer state.
Meeting Luke, Fall 2003. I was probably about to introduce him to his favorite game - Rocket Ship.
What fell into it was the Marty Rubin quote above, from his dystopian novel, The Boiled Frog Syndrome. Here it is again, so you aren’t annoyed with me for having to scroll up then back down again:
“Time does not pass, it continues.”
The quote came to me out of nowhere (it’s been years since I first read it), and its context in the book is nothing like what I am talking about here, but it calmed me and brought me into the present (and gave me this post’s topic) in seconds. What is so powerful about it is that it involves simply the shift of one word - from “pass” to “continue” - to completely change Time from a specter that dominates our views of the past and future to simply a companion in the all-powerful NOW. Which is, after all, the only thing we really have. Until later becomes now, then we will have now then.
The point is, Rubin’s quote clued me into the fact that time is exactly as we choose to view it. Right now, Abby and Luke view time as something less onerous and fearful than I and their older family members often can, and it’s not just because they are “younger and haven’t experienced life yet,” which is something I hate hearing even if it’s technically correct. Why do we seem compelled to remind those that are coming of age that time marches on mercilessly, or time goes by fast, or not to waste time, or how unforgiving time is to our knees and waistlines and hairlines and eyesight and hearing and tolerance for loud music and kids on our lawns? All have the cumulative effect of wearing down a kid’s joy and curiosity and excitement about life.
Looking back now, on many occasions I could have better shared with Abby and Luke that tough times will happen without engendering fear about the future or causing them to look back with perfectionist eyes on their past and judge themselves negatively for it. Offering up “just wait until you’re older” or “you’ll understand when you’re older” without digging in deeper to explain and emphasize the fact that time is simply what we make it - that it always continues, and therefore need not be feared, rehashed, regretted, or fought against - did them a disservice. I am getting better at living in the present, and now talk with them more in ways that I hope will not scare the hell out of them without handing them rose-colored glasses.
It’s something that uncles, in particular, are well-positioned to do, since we aren’t in the direct line of Parent-Grandparent authority. It’s like being a half-sibling and half-parent. You have some authority if you need it, but really you’d just rather be on their side without their parents catching on. I am blessed that both Abby and Luke come to me for help and advice when they need it, and aren’t afraid to do so - even when it’s about something icky or tough for them to admit. Being that kind of trusted outlet is like winning the Uncle Gold Medal.
Christmas I have no idea when. That’s my sister’s department.
(I will say here, being an uncle is the best. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, including being a parent myself if it meant I wouldn’t be Abby and Luke’s uncle. That would suck. I’ve learned a ton from both of them about me and about what matters in life, and in my darkest days it was often the thought of staying in their lives and being the best uncle I could be for them that got me out of bed in the morning. No lie.)
If time simply continues rather than passes, then it really makes it easier for us to stay present. When powerful moments or major celebrations pass, we often yearn to hold on, to keep everything we can of it for as long as we can. That’s understandable, but grasping for the passing moment for too long robs us of the present, and then we miss what’s happening in the now. And then, when we realize we missed it, we want to go back to the past to recapture it. Then, when we fail to do that, we use the present to beat ourselves up and then worry about missing something again in the future.
Rinse and repeat. That’s a nasty cycle, isn’t it?
So we don’t need to fight time passing. We can just let time continue.
That way, Abby and Luke are exactly in the right place, with valid perspectives and the right tools they need to make time work for them. The same can then be true for me, my family, those I love...everyone. It puts us all on the same page with time, and we all read that same page at the same time.
Right now.
Tomorrow is the next page, which only comes after we’ve seen this one. Otherwise the next page won’t make any sense, even though we can read the words.
Then, several hundred pages down the line, when the stories of those we love end, and new loved ones' stories begin, we need not worry about having missed anything. We will have lived each moment fully as it happens. Nor will the future be an issue. We will have seen that when we live moment-to-moment, there really isn’t anything major to worry about.
Letting time continue doesn’t make the past less important, nor mean that the future should go unplanned - it just means we don’t have to spend time lamenting the former while stressing about the latter.
It’s possible, I promise.
Another Christmas. Santa didn’t deliver the goods, apparently.
You don’t have to believe me. But my guess is that if you try taking the “continue” approach starting right now when you look at your own children, your parents, your partners and friends, you’ll notice a difference inside you pretty quickly. Name the feelings if you can, but that really doesn’t matter. You’ll feel the difference. It will feel good and right.
The alternative is what my first sponsor in recovery said to me at one of my lowest points, when I was so torn up with shame about my past and despondent about my future that I was on the verge of giving up on it all:
“JD, the problem with having one foot in the past and the other in the future
is that you’re taking a piss on the present.”
It stuck with me not only because it was based in juvenile potty humor, but also because it has turned out to be 100% true over the subsequent decade of my Life Relearning.
None of us wants to piss on our present. All it does is splash all over our feet, and that’s nasty. Our feet deserve better, as does the past that we cherish and learn from, and the future that we hope and dream about so earnestly.
It’s not how I want Abby and Luke to experience their lives, nor how I want to experience the years I have left. I don’t want to stand at their weddings singing, “Sunrise, Sunset”, honestly. I want to sing something else entirely - a song that just screams out “yep, of course this is happening this way, and it’s amazing and beautiful, because this is time continuing. Let’s keep going after this amazing party is done.”
I’ll take your nominations for songs starting now. I’m not joking.
And, because I don’t say it to them nearly often enough, I’ll say it here:
“I love you beyond all words and all time, Abby and Luke. That, too, will continue forever.”
Continue On with Chins Up, Everyone.
***************
Thanks for reading My Sunday Post. Here are some important updates from my past week:
Soul Book of the Week: Falling Upward by Richard Rohr
Book On My Nightstand: None! I’m getting ready for a re-read festival….
Best Show / Movie I Watched: Nomadland. Worth all the accolades. A film about Seeing People.
Strongest Earworm Song: “The Pilot” by The White Buffalo
Best Triathlon Training Moment: Deadlifting weights I never thought I’d lift at this age.
Toughest Triathlon Training Moment: The day after doing those deadlifts
Favorite Hangout Shirt of the Week: This one. Because Beverly Hills Cop.
Coolest Thing of the Week: Seeing Luke graduate.
Thing I Know Now That I Didn’t Last Week: What Orzo is and that I love it.
Most Helpful Perspective / Advice of the Week: The two quotes above should do it.
Current Wanderlust List: 1) California Still; 2) Hawaii; 3) An all-inclusive resort anywhere
Postscript: The boy LOVED cheese balls. So I got him a Costco tub of them for his birthday once. Big Uncle Points.
