News of tragedy surrounds me this week.
It is unfortunate that for so many people (myself included) it takes hearing of or experiencing tragedy to make our mundane daily moments feel precious. A ride in the car. A walk across the yard. Precious and fleeting. Time.
You find yourself thinking, "What if today was my last?" Suddenly your mind races to look back at your day with new eyes. Those simple moments you took for granted are played back in your mind. What was the first thing you saw when you woke up? What was the first thing you said? If you knew it was your last and could relive it again, this time you'd pay attention. But it is gone. Moments. Time. Gone.
The more I try to grasp it with my hands the more it sifts through my fingers. The only way I can capture it is by being fully present. And I breathe.
So breathe. It doesn't stop time but it slows it down.
