make something of this time

Today I smelled a magnolia flower for the first time. I didn’t count my calories on my walk and I didn’t check the time. I stood in front of this marvelous living pillar and felt grateful the flowers bloomed for me.

Yesterday, I researched the anatomy of a marsupial.

Tomorrow I may lie in bed all morning and take my time getting work done. But tomorrow I will breathe and I will feel and I will think.

When was the last time you looked up at the sun and felt gratitude?

When was the last time you were able to say to yourself “What do I enjoy doing most”?

When was the last time you considered what the word essential means?

The essentials are health, sustenance, shelter, and safety.

Nowhere in that list does it read wealth. Nowhere does it read industry or power.

These things are privileges many of us have never known to be without. We have been able to order a pizza when we crave it, without stopping to consider what it takes to bake a perfect crust. We have gone to our jobs every day without fail, like hamsters on a wheel. Even if our labors are our passions, we rarely stop. We push forward, even when every inch takes small pieces of our soul.

It is now we are faced with what is being dubbed an obstacle. This chapter in history, albeit devastating, frightening, and severe, is providing us an opportunity to stop.

To breathe.

To exist within ourselves and among our families.

To listen to the birds chatter.

To stay up late reading a book.

To be creative.

To make memories.

To dance and smile and share stories.

This event has given us the chance to do all of this and more . . . without feeling guilt for not being productive. We have been so naïve to think that the only way to prove productivity is to work, to make, to perform, to toil. What do we have to show for all of that productivity now that the wheels have stopped turning?

Make something of this time. Even if it means just allowing yourself a minute to breathe.

You don’t need to become a marathon runner, or a 5-star chef, or even a perfect parent. You should simply enjoy the stillness that the world lives in now. It is rare, it is beautiful, and it is yours.

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trauma’s a bitch

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a love metaphor