Five Minute Friday: Now, set your timer, clear your head, for five minutes to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.
I watch my daughter casually walk up, and snatch her brother’s hat right off his head. The race is on: one trying to stay just out of reach, the other grasping at what lays right past his fingertips. Laughter echoes above the pounding feet. I smile at the playful nature of these two teens. It seems they must have been racing all their lives because here they are growing up, growing into young adults.
How did it happen so sudden like? My own race has blinded me to the years slipping quietly by, passing without notice. The race through the day to get as much done as I can. The race through the week, month, year – to do makes me forget to be. I forget to take the time to capture more moments of passing childhood, youth, life.
I’m racing to my birthday at the end of October. Really, halfway there already? Another year closing on my story. A story full of love, hate, joy, sorrow, laughter, tears. Have I breathed deep the essence of it all? Breathed in life itself?
So many demands, but time itself demands the most. It shouts at me to savor this minute. Here. Now. This race is not the sprint I make it. It’s a marathon needing a slower pace, conservative handling of inner reserves.