Marking Moments

My kids brought home their yearbooks this week. Flipping through, I kept stopping on photos of them and their friends from early in the year, and realizing I was looking at versions of them they've already outgrown. You don't need kids to know this feeling: an old photo, a job you don't have anymore, a friend group that doesn't exist in that shape anymore. We're all outgrowing versions of ourselves, all the time.

This time of year is full of milestones: last day of school, graduations, performances. There's no way to actually hold onto any of it tighter. We keep becoming who we're becoming whether or not we mark the moment. The season will change.

I think that's exactly why marking it matters. Not to slow it down, but to honor it. This happened. This version of us was real. This season counted. I am currently in the swirl of playoff games, concerts, tournaments, celebrations, just trying to be present inside it.

So here's the practice I'm working on: however you mark a moment, with a tradition, a small ritual, even just flipping through a yearbook,  just notice it while you're in it. We can't hold on tighter. We can only pause, look up from the swirl, and acknowledge the season we won't fully see until we're looking back at the pages.

Here's to all the versions we’ve outgrown, and everything we are growing into.