A Few Things I Remember

The tiny, random moments that make our hearts sing

A late August sunset on the beach

Hi friends,

Does anybody know why they remember one moment over another? There seems to be no formula or precise science with our brains, full of complexities and mysteries and all the stuff that makes us human. What I know is that we tend to remember moments when someone or something made our heart sing. Those moments — an experience, a conversation, a feeling — can leave imprints all over our heart.

The other night, I jotted down a few memories that came to mind, in no particular order. They are what the author David Brooks might call “eulogy virtues.” Although they don’t fit well on a career resume, they’re the sorts of things people say about other people at funerals. Making this incomplete list was cathartic, and I hope to add to it over time. I hope that it elicits happy memories and good feelings from your own life. If you like what you see below, you might enjoy making a similar list of your own.

So, here it goes. I remember…

• a boss who took me aside and asked if there was anything they could do to make my “days more enjoyable and fulfilling” — showing how much they cared.

• a time when Ally said that one way of loving someone is deeply caring for the other person, their feelings, their emotions, etc.

• the time in rural, upstate New York when Ally and I got a flat tire. We were driving toward Buffalo and a gentleman drove by to change our tire on the side of the road. When we asked what we could do in return, he said to pay the kind act forward, then drove away.

• a couple that gave us a ride to the parking lot at Acadia National Park after we missed the last shuttle of the day. We remain in touch with them two years later — one of those friendships that emerge from serendipity.

• a Pittsburgh bartender I wrote about who works 50-hour weeks to fund no-cost education to children in Nicaragua, where his wife runs the school.

• the ex-New York firefighter, whom my dad and I met at a hotel two years ago, who said to “pay attention.” Sometimes, that’s the only life advice we need to bear in mind.

• the road trips I took as a little kid with my dad, mostly in Pennsylvania and Maryland. I’d call sunsets or campfires or delicious sandwiches on the road “precious moments” — the small moments of joy that create memories and make us come alive.

• a story from the author George Saunders, who experienced a near-death accident that raised his level of consciousness. Afterward, he said he felt so alive: “For three or four days after that, it was the most beautiful world. To have gotten back in it, you know? And I thought, If you could walk around like that all the time, to really have that awareness that it’s actually going to end. That’s the trick.”

• the custodial worker at an old job I worked who always smiled at the office workers who walked by him. He swept the floors with careful precision and an upbeat attitude.

• a few of the lessons Susan Cain learned from her late father, including: “Do beautiful things, just for the sake of it.”

• a retired lawyer in Syracuse named Bruce, who became one of my closest friends at college, who tutored kids and gave them rides to school, basketball practice, and family dinners. The kind of person who isn’t always checking his phone when you’re together.

• all the times when, especially in college, I called my mom to talk through a stressful situation or bout of anxiety. She was always there to comfort me.

• the Steve Jobs commencement speech that is widely cited. I think about those words often. “Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose,” he said. “You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

• the Syracuse chancellor who, at a college orientation activity nearly a decade ago, sat in the open chair next to me in a full lecture hall. I didn’t think much of it until a minute of intermission, when he turned to me and asked where I was from, my major, my goals, and why I liked writing. There was no fluff, nor were there leadership clichés. One of the more admirable traits a person can have is to be able to make conversations about the other person.

• an interaction I witnessed between a teacher and a high school student who was stressed over which major to pursue. She said she wasn’t sure about pursuing architecture because other students complained to her about the long hours. “Don’t listen to them,” the teacher told her over pizza. “Make a difference, discover your power in life. If you love architecture, go for it.” Sometimes, it’s that simple.

• a family friend who took her life four years ago. I’ll remember how she had often had an encouraging thing to say about me in virtually every in-person interaction. That leaves a mark on you, especially as a child. Whether it was about school, baseball, an upcoming trip, a side project or hobby, she knew how to create positive energy with a kind word.

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Parting thought: “One can appreciate & celebrate each moment — there's nothing more sacred. There's nothing more vast or absolute. In fact, there's nothing more!” — Pema Chödrön

Celebrate your gifts,

Matthew