moments in time

I have been thinking about the way time moves. Not with nostalgia, just with the awareness that life goes faster than we expect. We look back and realise whole years passed quietly while we were busy with something else. Ten years can feel long while we live them, then shrink the moment we glance behind us.

Some moments stay.
Others disappear without warning.

I have been longer with my husband than without him. 25 years. (Married 18) It is a simple fact, but it shows how much life shifts without us noticing. There were many versions of me before this one. All of them led here. And here feels right.

People often treat short moments as unimportant, yet they shape us more than we admit. A sentence someone said. A wound that formed in seconds but stayed for years. A quick decision that changed direction. Time gathers everything, even the fragments we barely registered.

For a long time, amor fati was a quiet philosophy I carried with me. Not loudly, but as a way of looking at my life. Amor fati means “love of fate,” the idea that everything that happens, welcome or unwelcome, belongs to the path that leads to now. It is not about calling every moment good. It is about recognising that every moment is part of the whole.

At some point, without realising it, I drifted away from it. Life grew busy and loud, and the things that usually keep me centred slipped out of focus. But recently, amor fati returned. Not as a rule, not as a performance, but as a calm way of standing in my own story. A reminder that nothing in my past needs correcting. A steady place to return to when the days get difficult. It feels like my baseline now. And I like that. It feels true.

And with that clarity, I still do not regret anything.
Not the missed chances.
Not the unclear choices.
Not the mistakes.

Regret tries to rewrite what cannot change. But nothing in my life would look the same if even one moment had shifted. Every turn, hesitation, and leap shaped this present.

To love fate is not to pretend everything was pleasant. It is to accept that everything belongs. To see the past as something complete, not something waiting for repair. Decisions made sense in their moment, and even the hard ones carried us forward.

There were things I did not do.
Words I did not say.
Possibilities that dissolved before becoming real.

But regret does not help. The past stands as it is. What remains is how we see it. And when I look at mine directly, I see movement, growth, and lessons that would not exist without the difficult parts.

We cannot waste what was never ours.
We cannot lose chances that were never meant to stay.
We cannot undo what formed us.

So I choose acceptance over regret.
Clarity over longing.
And amor fati as a steady way of living.

Time moves. Moments slip through our hands.
But every one of them brought me here.

Everything we do leaves a trace. 💜❤️

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PS

By the way, 32 years ago Nirvana’s unplugged album was recorded, released a year later in late 1994, mere months after Kurt Cobain’s passing at 27 years old. That album is older than Kurt ever was. And his legacy moves on. Let that sink in.