Is Forever a Thing?

What Can You Truly Commit to for All Time?

This week I saw a MAGA Forever bumper sticker, and it got me thinking about what, if anything, I could claim to be committed to for all eternity.

Not much as it turns out. (And definitely not that.) But this is not about that. It’s about what we mean by forever.

I’m not a commitment phobe. I’ve been married for 32 years. We’ve been together for 38. I was a dance teacher at one studio for 40 years, and I’ve lived in the same city for all of my life. Despite what these factoids would indicate, I actually like change.

I appreciate variety. Options. Different perspectives. I’m open to the universe.

I reserve the right to change my mind about things. To switch things up whether its a haircut, a home address or a closely held belief. I’m open to new ideas and input. And sometimes I’m wrong. So I’m comfortable with the possibility of adjusting or evolving my thinking.

Yesterday isn’t today which won’t be tomorrow.

Humans are meant to evolve. We are not stagnant creatures frozen in time. (Although the inventors of Botox and fillers would like us to believe otherwise.)

Openness to new ideas and input should not be threatening. It should feel like freedom. The more we experience, the more we can experience. The more we know, the more we might know.

Forever is an optimistic word. It can signal promise, fuel romanticism or even imply a curse. We use it casually although its actual meaning is monumental.

Some things seem to go on forever—Grey’s Anatomy, growing out bangs, traffic jams, Mick Jagger, plane rides with crying babies, bad dates, lines for the women’s restroom at concerts and sporting events, waits at the DMV, Mariah Carey’s high notes, my dog’s first pee in the morning, the sky.

Few things actually do.

Tattoos? They’re pretty close to forever. Which is why I could never commit to one. What image could I possibly love until the day I die? The best I can come up with would be my kids’ initials or names. But I’d probably get sick of the font or the color or the size at some point.

Tastes change.

My favorite color is lavender. But I also adore sky blue. My chosen hue used to be dark purple. Who knows what it might be in 10 years? (Who knows if I’ll be here in 10 years? No one lives forever.)

My home vibe right now is casual, fresh with a French twist. But it used to be boho.

My husband has the same mid morning snack of peanut butter toast every single day. I could never eat the same thing on a daily basis. Not even potato chips. (Well, maybe potato chips but that’s about it.)

I have multiple favorite books, shows, movies, songs. The list can change any time I read, watch or listen to something new.

Sometimes I write at my desk. Sometimes in my living room looking out at the park across the street. Or in our TV room. Or in one of my kids’ rooms. Or in a coffee shop. Or in bed. I can’t commit to a single space.

I’ve changed my religion (or lack thereof) more than once.

The older I get, the more I get to know myself. The better I get to know myself, the more open I am to figuring out what is most authentically me. The more authentic version of me I become, the more I shed what isn’t true for me and adopt what is.

I change. Change is good.

When we say forever, it implies both finality and infiniteness. I like that about it. Like us, forever contains multitudes.

Despite my affinity for the new, the different or for change, there are a few things I could do almost forever:

• Watch dog videos

• Read

• Listen to music

• Look at flowers or mountains

• Spend time with my husband and kids (and dogs and cat)

• Be grateful

• Keep trying

There’s really only one thing I can think of that I can truly commit to for eternity.

I will love. That’s about all I can promise to do forever. And that is more than enough.

Check out the Distracted by Pretty Things publication, pretty please.

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