What counts can’t always be counted
What counts can’t always be counted; what can be counted doesn’t always count. Albert Einstein’s contribution to civilisation is countless, yet this astute epigram of his stands out.
In a self-absorbed, self-concentrated and self-obsessed world, the significance of this message rings a potent forewarning note. How busy we are amassing material resources and commodities which can be categorised as countable that we forget to gather the blessings that actually count.
Parents are busy with work commitments; they don’t have the time to collect precious memories of their children growing up. Money is countable, yet memories count.
Young men and women are engrossed building careers and achieving targets, they have no time to consider that their body clocks are ticking away and soon will not be able to support them in running this rat race. Targets don’t always count, sound health does.
Parents’ expectations from children are sky-rocketing. The child is under constant pressure of scoring well in board exams and also of cracking entrance exams. Your child’s score in exams can be counted, his success can be celebrated. But the times when he breaks down from exhaustive pressure or when he faces failure, your embrace and assurance will instill the faith in him that this is not the end of the world. This assurance and the child’s re-established faith in his abilities is what counts.
Little things that can bring a smile on someone’s face count; small gestures that can fill someone’s heart with gratitude count; and memories that can brighten up your melancholic days certainly count.
On a hot afternoon when you offer a glass of water to a labourer working on the roadside or a deliveryman, it definitely fills his heart with gratitude. A small ‘thank you’ to the old man checking free air-pressure of your car tyres at the petrol pump, cheers him up. A smile of recognition or a handshake with the janitor brightens up his day.
A day well spent in the company of loved ones, old friends, parents and relatives is a day that counts in the grind of life. A day taken off from work to spend in one’s own company, to sit back and relax, is a day that provides “immutability in flux”. Such a day is a blessing that counts in the conundrum of life.
Capturing the essence of the moment, a bud blooming into a nascent flower; a pupa wriggling out of its cocoon to slowly unfold its wings and turn into the most vibrant creature on this earth; the breaking of dawn with tiny light beams piercing the thick pall of darkness to envelop half of the earth into multitudinous sea of colours…such breathtaking sights can hardly be counted as worldly assets, yet they do count.
American author Jack Kornfield sums up the things that actually count in our lives in the following phrase, “In the end, only three things matter: How well we have lived; how well we have loved; and how well we have learned to let go.”
IN A SELF-OBSESSED WORLD, THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS MESSAGE RINGS A POTENT FOREWARNING NOTE