Moments

We each have moments in our lives that we want to remember forever. Big ones, small ones, the firsts in life, the lasts, these moments are the ones that make us who we are as individuals.  Whether it’s the first time you see your favorite band live, or a random Saturday morning conversation, these moments matter. Yet, more and more, we are seeing and experiencing these moments through our electronic devices. Think about it: these days when you go to a concert, what do you see? No longer are there lighters waving in the air, or glow sticks, but cell phones. People hold up tablets to film shows (and can we talk about how RUDE it is to hold up a huge screen and block people’s view of the show?) and bounce along with a beat. And yes, I’m just as guilty of whipping out my phone to record something for posterity, but I’ve also come to realize the sacred moments without the devices as well. Indeed, some of my most treasured moments have happened when there was no smartphone in my hand.

Listen, I am all for capturing special memories. You want to look back and have that image forever, right? I get it. What I have trouble with, however, is our seemingly incessant need to have EVERY moment recorded in pictures or on social media. Not every thought that passes through your brain should be shared. Not every moment has to be recorded. If you are constantly living your life through the filter of a phone screen, let me tell you, you aren’t living it. It’s passing you by as you try in vain to capture it. Instead, put that phone away. Watch the concert with your own eyes. Soak it in. That Saturday conversation with a friend? Be IN it. Absorb yourself in the conversation wholly. Take in that laughter, let it feed your soul in a way that it can’t do if you’re absorbed in whatever is happening on Facebook or Twitter.

Think of it like this: if you are in the middle of your dream coming true, do you want a smartphone blocking you from actually experiencing it? Of course not! You want to live in it! This idea that if there isn’t a picture, it didn’t happen is ridiculous. Moments can happen so quickly, without warning, and in order to truly soak them in, you have to be fully present. Remember when I said there was going to be some boyband content here? Here we go. Last year, I was fortunate enough to be able to go on the New Kids on the Block cruise. It had been a dream of mine for several years, and after long talks with my hubby, I was finally able to go. I shared the experience with my best friend, and a group of friends that I’ve been so lucky to meet over the years. While the entire experience was one that I’ll never forget, and amazing in so many ways, I’ll focus on one particular moment. On the cruise, you get a photo opportunity with the band. It is your one guaranteed chance to meet and interact with the group. Now, I am a lifelong Joey McIntyre girl. He was my first crush, ever since I was five or six. That is a LIFETIME of adoration, so the thought of meeting him face to face? Literally a dream come true for me.

The way these photo groups works is simple. There are two main groups, A and B, and each group has their pictures on a different day, so the lines aren’t so long and fans and band have time to relax between sessions. I was in Group A. There are 10 people per photo group and I was able to share this with a group of my very best friends. Many of them were past cruisers, so they walked me through, giving me advice. One thing I remembered clearly: “Don’t freeze. Talk to them.” I went into it thinking about what I would say, how I would say it, knowing that I would have only seconds with each group member. That all changed the moment I stepped into that long, long, winding line with my friends. We talked and laughed, and as the line inched closer and closer to the room the band was in, I felt my nerves kick up. My stomach jittered, and I could feel my friends looking at me and smiling seeing it happen for me for the first time. I clearly remember turning the corner and seeing them through the glass, feeling my heart stutter a bit. There they were. Suddenly, it was real.

Somehow, after that initial shock of seeing them, most of my nerves faded away. I don’t know why, and I wouldn’t dare try to explain it. Once I reached the door, personal belongings were taken and placed on a long table. No cell phones, no cameras, nothing but yourself is allowed on that stage with the band. You are forced to live in that moment, to come to terms with your nerves and your excitement and the reality that what you’ve dreamed of since you were a little girl is about to happen. Before I knew it, we were one group away from the stage and reality truly slapped me in the face. It. Was. Happening. Security reached a hand out, helping me up the short few steps, and there’s Danny Wood. I smiled at him, said hello, and hugged him. So far so good. Donnie Wahlberg was next in line, smiling so brightly. I hugged him, and then smiled up at him bravely and said, “I’m a cruise virgin.” Blockheads, as supporters of NKOTB are called, know that Donnie has a sort of alter ego called “DDub”, and DDub has his own way of speaking. Well, as soon as I spoke, the DDub came out. “Not anymore,” he practically purred back at me, and I gasped, hand rising to my throat. Yes, people, I swooned. He only smirked and rubbed my arm until my dumb legs remembered to move on to the next man in line, Jordan Knight.

My interaction with Jordan was brief, but I remember his smile, his careful hug. Sadly, my brain was still pretty fried from my Donnie interaction, but I still managed to chat with him until I reached Joe. And there he was, my lifelong crush. This was the moment I’d waited forever for. I smiled, said hello. He said, “Hi, how are you?” I hugged him, and said, “I’m f*cking awesome. This is my first cruise and it’s amazing.” He chuckled a little, and we turned, smiling for the camera, his fingers brushing over my shoulder. Two quick clicks from the camera and he turned back to me, smiling, dipping his head and looking me over. “I like your dress,” he told me, and with one last stuttered thank you I stumbled off, weak kneed and shaky. I had one big bone crushing hug from Jon Knight, stopped at the table and grabbed my things, and out the door I went to my friends. They gathered around me, chattering excitedly as I laid my head on a stair rail, needing a moment to steady myself. What else can you do when a dream literally comes true?

I later asked my friend who was beside me if it all happened the way I thought it did, and she assured me it did. It’s all so clear in my mind, every second of that brief interaction, from the words, to the sound of his voice, even the feel of his jacket. That memory is one that can never be taken away from me, or tarnished. Yes, there is a photo of it, but even better, because I was so in that moment, so engaged, it’s not something I’ll ever, ever be able to forget.

This is of course an extreme example of living in the moment, and I’m aware of that. However, it illustrates the point that sometimes, living is truly done in the moment. You have to experience the emotions of your life, from the highest highs to the lowest lows. Revel in your happiness, soak it in. When you’re sad, soak that in too. It’s okay to let yourself have a few moments of sadness, and even cry. Life, in all its many, varied facets, is meant to be experienced with a whole heart and soul, and not just fit into a tweet or Facebook status. And yes, take your pictures and enjoy those too. Just don’t let your life become about selfies and recording every second of your life. After all, if you’re depending on that phone to live your life for you, one day you’re going to look back and realize that your version of reality has been distorted by the fact you’re seeing it through a screen.

So the next time you’re having a “moment” big or small, put the phone away. Turn off that computer. Just treasure it. Feel the energy surrounding you, or the breeze kissing your cheeks, or the lick of heat from a bonfire, and absorb it. One day, these precious memories will be the stories you pass to your kids, and your grandkids. Make them count.