Last week I flew to Massachusetts to visit my 94-year-old grandmother in the hospital.

Let me tell you about this amazing woman.

Barbara, Aunt B, or grandmother to us grandchildren, was born in 1930 in the first generation of Newfoundlanders.

(No wonder I love music ​Alan Doyle​ (AND ​Great Big Sea​), it's in my DNA!)

Grandma was a kindergarten teacher for 22 years and was an active member of her community throughout her life. She was a great knitter and helped start many quilting initiatives over the years. She was a volunteer with the Council on Aging. She also frequently traveled with Meals on Wheels, "delivering meals to the elderly" (as she called it), which she continued to do well into her 80s!

On previous visits to Massachusetts, I would stop by my grandmother's for the afternoon, usually checking my phone, often distracted by whatever irrelevant thoughts about work were occupying my brain. I think after knowing her all my life, I thought, "Grandma has always been here and Grandma will always be here."

Fortunately, I came across an ancient Japanese concept that helped me recognize and correct this pattern. Thanks to this, all my recent visits to my grandmother were definitely different.

Ichi-go Ichi-e Once in a lifetime chance

There is a concept that dates back to the 17th century in Japanese tea ceremonies called ichi-go ichi-e:

It can be translated as: "one time, one meeting".

It is a reminder for us to treasure and enjoy each unique moment. No matter how often we do something or meet someone, it is Just It's time for this to actually happen this way, IN this moment.

This concept can remind us to be more present.

• Instead of checking our phones, we can focus on the person or task in front of us.
• Instead of worrying about tomorrow or withdrawing from work, we can be here and now.
• Instead of going through the motions, we can be a little more intentional in our behavior.

Over the past few years, I have been thinking a lot about Japanese Zen philosophy (​see my essay on Wabi-Sabi​) and this concept of ichi-go ichi-e also stuck in my mind.

Which brings me to my trips to visit grandma this summer.

I stopped worrying about the future and dwelling on the past, put my phone down and just sat with her.

I treated each visit as if it were a so-called Just time where I would have this interaction.

I asked her questions about her childhood. I learned that she spent several summers in a tent with no running water or electricity while her father built a house with his own hands. How much is she? I liked it very much.

She told me about her teenage years, including the time she snuck out of the house and got caught and had to sit at the foot of her parents' bed until the sun came up.

I learned more about my grandfather. She even shared photos from her wedding that I've never seen before:

She also found some photos of me from the old days!

This one was my favorite:

I returned to Nashville last month, not knowing when (or if) I would see her again.

I still felt different. Over the course of several visits, I developed a deeper bond with my grandmother than I had probably had in the last 10 years combined.

Which brings me to my last week in the hospital.

Grandma Community

Last week, my brother and I went to the hospital every day to visit my grandmother.

And every day a revolving door of guests showed up to check on her:

Her nieces and nephews. My uncle and father. My sister and mom (who just had surgery!). Her grandchildren. Her best friend's son. Her friend Anna. Friends of the Council on Aging. Quilting buddies. People from her church.

At one point there were 10 of us at the same time and it turned into an absolute party.

I was so impressed with this woman and how she impacted so many lives.

If there's a clear sign of a life well-lived, it's being surrounded by people who love you. Grandma was selfless for most of her life. I was amazed and inspired by how many people dropped everything to come and spend time with her, swapping stories and keeping her company.

Despite the circumstances, he still has a great sense of humor:

When she first opened her eyes and saw me, she smiled and said, "I remembered another story!" She then told me how she "borrowed" a car, even though she didn't have a driver's license yet, to drive through the streets of Boston to track down her boyfriend.

Talking on the phone to her 94-year-old brother-in-law, she asked, "How are you, old man?"

When the doctor asked, "Are you feeling better today?" she replied, “better than WHAT!”

Spending time with Grandma and all the people from all sides of her life seemed like the best possible use of my time. I love the community she has around her and am constantly moved to tears by the love so many people have for her.

My grandmother's "neighbor" from the hospital contributed even more to this issue...

Live consciously

The hospital where my grandmother stays is located right next to Walden Pond, the same pond that Henry David Thoreau made famous in his book ​Walden​.

One day, after visiting Grandma, I went for a leisurely walk around its perimeter, watching the light of the setting sun dance between the trees.

(The Japanese also have a word for this, it's called "komorebi").

Then I read the inscription with Thoreau's most famous reflection:

"I went into the forest because I wanted to live consciously, present only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what he had to teach, and when I came to die, to discover that I had not lived."

Thoreau retreated into solitude to discover what was most important to him.

Grandma went in a different direction, prioritizing what was most important to her: family, friends and community.

Two different scenarios, same end result:

We choose life consciously.

I have no plans to move out into the woods and live a simple life, but I think I've done my best over the last few years to live more consciously.

Specifically, re-prioritizing what is most important to me: friends, family and community.

All we have to decide…

A few years ago, my grandmother gave my brother, sister and me three of her favorite handmade quilts.

“I was going to give them to you, my grandchildren, after I died, but I want to give them to you now so that we can enjoy this moment together.”

She took the time to explain the meaning of each quilt and why they were chosen for each of us. I am so grateful that she did this rather than waiting until after she died to hear about these beautiful quilts.

When I visited my grandmother this summer, I discovered that she had printed out my essay ​about my grandfather, her husband, who died​. I hoped to make Grandpa proud of me, but I realized that I never got to tell him how much I learned from him before he died.

That's why I'm writing this essay now, to make sure she knows how much she taught me. I am very proud of my grandmother and appreciate that I have been able to learn from her for 40 years (and counting!).

(Yesterday I got a text from my dad saying he read this draft to her at the hospital and she loved it. Mission accomplished!)

I hope grandma will recover and be able to return home. She finally told her friend Laura, "I'm not done yet!"

But I also know that it's not up to us to decide.

As Gandalf tells Frodo The Fellowship of the Ring: :

“We just have to decide what to do with the time we are given.”

I hope my grandmother and Thoreau will inspire you to live a more conscious life:

• If you want to put your phone down and be present with the people in front of you, life can seem so much richer.
• If you want to prioritize what's really important instead of things trying to steal your attention, you will never go wrong with the choices you make.
• If you find a way to focus on the important people in your lifethey'll still be a part of it when you're 94.

And finally, remember, no matter what you do today, this is the only time This the moment will come.

Act accordingly.

-Steve

PS: If you're looking for a thought-provoking film about being present and Ichi-Go Ichi-E, I highly recommend Wim Wenders ​Perfect days​.