Oliver Page

Poem: There are only moments

1 May, 2022
Photograph of a drop of water balanced on the petal of an orange flower

Photo by Dustin Humes

What we call “my life” is a series of moments, stacked one after another.

With each unfolding moment, we have a choice. We can choose to occupy the cramped, claustrophobic space called “me” – I am a man, I am British, I am a writer, I am shy…

Or we can choose not to be a prisoner of abstraction, allowing ourselves the space to dance with each moment and expand into new states of being as needed.

Here’s a short meditation on the power of moments.

There are only moments

There are no masters, only moments of mastery.

There are no villains, only moments of villainy.

There are no geniuses, only moments of genius.

There are no fools, only moments of foolhardiness.

There are no saviours, only moments of salvation.

There are no liars, only moments of deception.

There are no aliens, only moments of alienation.

There are no gurus, only moments of wisdom.

There are no lunatics, only moments of lunacy.

There are no hypocrites, only moments of hypocrisy.

There are no leaders, only moments of leadership.

There are no friends, only moments of kinship.

There are no cowards, only moments of cowardice.

There are no misers, only moments of avarice.

There are no heroes, only moments of heroism.

There are no skeptics, only moments skepticism.

There are no mothers, only motherly moments.

There are no brothers, only brotherly moments.

There are no lovers, only moments of love.

The word “moment” has roots in the Latin momentum, meaning “movement, alteration, change”.

Moments aren’t static, and neither are we.

We are a dynamic, evolving cluster of potentials.

There are only moments.

Breathe life into them.