perhaps twenty


It's early, 4:30 a.m.  I can't sleep, so I decide to start my day since it's not that much earlier than my usual wake time.  I slept well, despite waking around 3, which is not at all unusual for me.  My mid-life night sweats have long conditioned me to a familiarity with the darkest hours of the night.  I normally lie awake, eyes often wide open and staring into the fathomless darkness, my mind relentlessly going over things - things I am worried about (a long list) or things I want to get done when daylight arrives.  But today I am up and making a cup of green tea under the soft glow of a string of lights in the kitchen, intending to continue reading a book I started yesterday (this book is introspective, quiet, and so lovely) but ultimately letting these words tumble out here instead.  

The early morning silence is delicious.  The clean slate and brand-newness of the day spreads out in front of me.  I take this time to pause and ponder what the day can be, what I have the power to make of it.  How can I do better than I did yesterday, or last week?  Seeing my parents every day is a reminder that these days are not to be wasted.  Time is a precious gift.  How will I use it?

"How many more times will you watch the full moon rise?  Perhaps twenty.  And yet it all seems limitless." - Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

by mlekoshi