One Chance at This Life

I’ve had a summer cold this week: congestion, brain fog, fatigue. Which has meant less exercise, less productivity, more staring aimlessly out of windows. Yesterday a project that should have taken about an hour took four hours instead. To say I’ve slowed down is an understatement.

Enter this quote reminding me to pay attention. To do whatever it is I’m doing attentively.

Pay Attention has been my 2022 theme. I chose it because I recognize that I’m not great at paying attention, that I need more intentional practice.

We’ve got one chance at this life. We don’t want to miss it because we aren’t paying attention.

So this week, I’m attempting to wade slowly through the fog in order to pay attention, even now, even though I’m less than my best self. In fact, maybe this cold is a gift of sorts, not one I’d ask for and yet it’s forcing me to slow down and pay attention to what I might otherwise have missed.

I’m noticing the swirls of steam rising from my mug of herbal tea. I’m taking care that I drink plenty of water to rinse the buggies from my system. I’m remembering to not just gaze out windows but take note of what I see: the breeze tickling the leaves in the trees and encouraging my roses to dance; the wilted flowers that, even with low energy, I could manage to trim; the progress we’ve made on the backyard project; the deer romping through the long grass on the hill behind our house.

This is my life. Today is your day. We have one chance at it. Let’s not waste it, deny it, miss it.

Five Minute Friday prompt: CHANCE

4 thoughts on “One Chance at This Life

  1. Thank you for this reminder to live each moment mindfully, gratefully, intentionally – present. Bless you. Hope you soon have energy and attentiveness.

  2. OK, tongue firmly in cheek…

    Brain fog’s what I’ve always got,
    and when I’m driving, others fear,
    but I’m sure that it is not
    result of daily case of beer.
    No, friend, really, I do jest;
    for daily case I could not pay,
    and truly the very best
    for me is one six-pack a day,
    which sets me up for muddled joy,
    unworried from the frothy buzz,
    and I am just a good ol’ boy
    until I’m caught by irksome fuzz
    who too often boldly dared
    to suggest that I’m impaired.

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