Six Months

Thursday, 4. February 2010

You know that song from the Broadway musical, “Rent,” that starts “Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes…”?

Well it came to me as I was driving away from shul this morning. By The Gregorian calendar, which is to say our everyday civil calendar, this Saturday will mark six months since my mom’s passing.

The line in that song — it’s called “Seasons of Love” — that speaks to me is the one at the end of the first section that goes “How do you measure a year in the life?”

So I divide that in half today and ask myself, how do you measure six months in a life? Or how do you measure six months after a death?

What I love about the song is that it measures that profound question in ordinary events. “In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee…”

And I believe there’s an assumption in those lyrics that each of those events contains more than just the passing of time. Rather, they suggest that it’s not the counting of our time that matters, but making our time count, as my rabbi often says when celebrating someone’s birthday. Which is to say that what matters is that we make ourselves aware that each moment has the potential to be so much more. That those cups of coffee, those daylights and sunsets can be infused with conscious living instead of just going through the motions. I try to live by that philosophy, I really do. But like all of us, I ain’t perfect.

If all this sounds like a buildup to new resolutions, maybe it is. Since returning from the West Coast, I’ve been re-reading two life-affirming books, one of which you might say is practical, the other of which you could say is spiritual. But in fact the two have much in common. The so-called practical one is “Getting Things Done,” by David Allen; the so-called spiritual one is “Everyday Holiness,” by Alan Morinis, a wonderful guide to building a Mussar practice.

One of my goals for today is to capture all the open loops in my life and then begin to process them, to decide what action I need to take to “get things done.” If that makes no sense, read “Getting Things Done.” I’ve got three magazine assignments to get to work on and more digging to do on a couple others. I’ve got a desk to clean and organize. As I look outside, I’m aware that the temperature here in New England this morning is below freezing, but what I see out my office window, is a blue sky and the sun shining on rooftops and bare trees.  Our two dog are quietly sleeping nearby, a beautiful sign of peacefulness. I can’t help but feel grateful right now. Cue the music :

“Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes.
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Moments So Dear
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do you Measure – Measure A Year ?

In Daylights – In Sunsets
In Midnights – In Cups Of Coffee
In Inches – In Miles
In Laughter – In Strife…”

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7 Responses to “Six Months”



  1. Charlotte Libov Says:

    What a wonderful, heartfelt column. I just saw “Rent” for the first time, so this resonated with me.



  2. Leonard Felson Says:

    Thanks, Charlotte for your kind words.



  3. Rachel Says:

    I just woke up and my last dream was about trying to pick a father-daughter dance for my wedding. ;) I love that song so much!



  4. Dale Stine Says:

    LOVELY….thank you for sharing…i saw the link on Charlotte’s page.



  5. linda cole Says:

    Leonard,
    This was such a great blog; I feel grateful just to have read it, and
    to be your friend. I can definitely identify with your feelings about
    how do I prioritize and way too much to do in this crazy world we live in.
    Work long hours, try to exercise (sometimes),get home, check E-mail,check Facebook, eat dinner,clean up kitchen, maybe laundry, think about what to wear tomorrow,try to remember what’s at the Dry Cleaner’s or in the hamper.
    it’s exhausting!!! I don’t know how I ever survived raising children and
    working, mostly part-time, and even cleaned my house without
    hiring a person to clean and cooked alot more than I do now.(maybe i had a
    had a magic clone who was invisible but got things done.And that is one of my favorite songs! gotta go listen to it again and think about how to get my clone back.



  6. Dad Says:

    Lenny,

    I am so proud of you. You are a good writer. You are a mensch.

    Love,

    Dad



  7. Bruce Says:

    What a wonderful, heartfelt column. I just saw “Rent” for the first time, so this resonated with me.

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