Forget yesterday. It has already forgotten you. Don’t sweat tomorrow. You haven’t even met. Instead, open your eyes, and your heart to a truly precious gift; today.
I have been meaning to write here more often about how I writing more often. But I have not found the time to say these words. Or I have found the time, but so often I’ve been filling my time with ‘something’ else.
I’ve been filling it with new books.
Anna Quindlen is currently my cup of tea, so I’ve been drinking her slowly every afternoon while my children sleep.
I’ve been filling it with writing essays.
Essays are my new best friend, so we’ve been sharing deep secrets in any moments in between.
I’ve been filling it with exercising.
Barre workouts are my life line, so I do them often to remind my body to feel alive.
Then there’s this blog. This two-year old blog.
‘Where does it fit into all this?’ sometimes I wonder. If my life is a closet, this blog is currently on the floor.
The hangers are all occupied with other fabrics. ‘Is it time to throw you out?” I ask when I’ve picked it up from the floor and studied it more closely to see it’s worth to my today.
But then I’ll think of the history, of all the places it’s been worn, of all the potential for what it could be if only I got rid of something else, made room somewhere else, paired it with something else. Something new and bright, that would give it new life in my today.
Alas, I always keep it. I pick it off the floor. Remove any lint that may have gathered and wear it like it’s the first time I’ve worn it before. ‘It looks good on you’ some will say in seeing me. And ‘you really should wear that more often!’ I agree and in doing so I remember why I still hold on. I hold on because every time I wear it, it looks so good on me. It feels so good on me.
So when I’m done with using it, I delicately fold it into a square. There’s no room on a hanger, but there is on the shelf. I place it on a shelf and smile about keeping it for so long.