I've been feeling all the dark feels lately, so I decided to post a lovely little essay today about one day in a life; in your life, and in mine.
See what you think.
The Life of a Day
Like people or dogs, each day is unique and has its own personality quirks which can easily be seen if you look closely. But there are so few days as compared to people, not to mention dogs, that it would be surprising if a day were not a hundred times more interesting than most people. But usually they just pass, mostly unnoticed, unless they are wildly nice, like autumn ones full of red maple trees and hazy sunlight, or if they are grimly awful ones in a winter blizzard that kills the lost traveler and bunches of cattle. For some reason we like to see our days pass, even though most of us claim we don't want to reach our last one for a long time. We examine each day before us with barely a glance and say, no, this isn't one I've been looking for, and wait in a bored sort of way for the next, when, we are convinced, our lives will start for real. Meanwhile, this day is going by perfectly well-adjusted, as some days are, with the right amounts of sunlight and shade, and a light breeze scented with a perfume made from the mixture of fallen apples, corn stubble, dry oak leaves and the faint odor of last night's meandering skunk.
(Tom Hennen)
Isn't that a gorgeous bit of writing? It jarred me awake this morning with its truth.
It gently urged me to to intentionally choose this one day, to reject the notion that the "perfect day" is somewhere in the future. This day is perfectly gorgeous in all its natural beauty and tragic, fragile brokenness. It is the only day we are promised.
So, let's live this day, my friends.
Live this one day.
