I woke up on Monday to this feeling.
Another weekend gone.
The feeling of time slipping away, days passing almost unnoticed.
That whatever I do to grasp them, to make them last and be filled with productivity and progress, that they ignore me and vanish.
I get up early, but so do the distractions.
Maybe you don’t feel like that when you’re younger. When the days stretch out in infinite possibility.
I still get that feeling of possibility too, but that makes the rushing of days feel more frustrating, because the possibility always still seems to be tomorrow or next week, just out of reach.
And ignorantly I seem to consider it more productive to do some admin than invest in a friendship. I’ve somehow come to consider stuff ahead of people. Sure, I want to make stuff, but if that’s not for anyone, what’s the point? It’s a vain attempt to behave as if my own story is the most important one.
And yet we still have today.
What can I make today that’s beautiful? What can I do that’s extraordinary?
Even if we don’t get to choose where some of the time goes, we still get to choose how to approach it. We can still cherish the mundane moments, and know that it’s those moments that we might miss most when they’re gone.
“None of us know what will happen. Don’t spend time worrying about it. Make the most beautiful thing you can. Try to do that every day. That’s it.” - Laurie Anderson