Time, the only thing we can’t control. Slips between our fingers as we fumble for it clumsily. Running late is the worst feeling in the world. The moment our eyes open each morning our minds are bombarded by seemingly endless commitments. I need to slow it down: meditation is my grace.
Howling winds, violently shaking trees. Blinding snow makes the trip more interesting. Cars zoom by, barely checking their mirrors as they pass us. The roads are slick the drivers are distracted. I’m glad I brought my first aid kit.
On the way to Hershey, with trees flashing by, rain pouring from the sky — I thought about our existence, and why we are all here, content or not content, and why. The day goes by. We sit in our cars buzzing by. Wondering where we will be in the end, while trees keep buzzing by. We think about our lives, family, friends, and meaning, while we continue to try, try, try. We are all tied together before we all say our last “goodbye.”