Tag Archives: hourglass sands

Next Lap/Last Lap

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Every day is a borrowed bet that it’s not the final one.

As we walk the familiar path of looking back at yesterday to plan for tomorrow, it’s important to realize that no minutes or months are guaranteed. We assume the ritualistic rising sun affords us a constant opportunity to embrace a clean slate and start anew. Regardless of the mistakes and indiscretions that spurred our insomniac nights, a fresh morning canvas stands motionless in the middle of the room, floating in the nebulous space between inspiration and regret.

But what if that sun doesn’t surface?  What if tomorrow never arrives? What if yesterday was the end of the song?

The tired, clichéd advice to “live each day like it’s your last” is a hackneyed platitude…until it’s true. But the irony remains. We couldn’t embrace that lap because we never knew it would be the last. Now the hourglass is empty and we don’t have time to sweep up the sand.

Whether due to erratic geopolitics, super viruses, tragic happenstance, or our own free will, this past year may have been our curtain call…even if we were prematurely pushed out in front of the audience, unprepared for the bow.

There is an incredibly fragile balance constantly at play between nature and society, and we ride this edge of an eggshell crack existence desperately hoping the precarious shaking of the scales doesn’t suddenly shift and forever knock us off our trajectory.

We are fools to believe a ship’s sails will only be propelled by favorable winds, but it might be wise to recognize a perfect line when it presents itself. There isn’t always a patient second opportunity waiting in the wings, so cross your fingers and carpe diem.

Adolescence Interrupted

There Will Always Be Monsters under the Bed

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They will continue to wait, whether we remember to check or forget to inspect. On bended knees, our eyes remain peeled for a glimpse of anything unusual sitting on the planks. But it’s pointless to pretend the floor is clear. They were hiding there last night and last year. They’ll be back again tomorrow…and forever.

The nagging knocking behind the eyes that keeps us awake. The sense that we are barreling toward the inevitable edge. The lists of boxes that remain unchecked. The threat of impending doom. The planet on the verge of collapse. The infighting. The declining educational system. The poor. The sick. The sad. The struggling. The confused. The hurting. The hurt. The loop stuck on a loop. The dubious distrust. The fear. The uncontrollable variables. The time. The schedule. The appointments. The wasted opportunities. The cost. The consequence. The imbalance. The chasm. The loss. The hammer. The nails. The virus. The variants. The worry. The wonder. The sense that any plan must be penned by our own hands. The inattention to intention. The lack of air. The lack of breath. The search for courage. The responsibilities. The falling hourglass sands. The questioning. The projecting. The diet. The disease. The swing. The strike. The call to action. The answer. The bruises. The blood. The tightrope walk. The guns. The drugs. The laws. The disconnections. The deleted lines. The money wearing masks. The trust split into pieces. The rankings. The rancor. The voices. The voiceless. The hardened. The heartless. The abusers. The abused. The race toward a constantly drifting finish line. The ridicule. The neglect. The bottom line. The ringing. The spinning. The tension. The waves. The shortened fuse. The easy ignition. The order. The angles. The criticism. The denigration. The obsessions. The compulsions. The rigid routines. The punishing patterns. The reaching. The rejection. The shooting star wishes for a second chance at another lap.

There will always be monsters under the bed.

Be a scarier monster.

Adolescence Interrupted