Time That I Have

I had this strangely out-of-body series of thoughts this morning as I was coming into work. I tweeted them out earlier, and I just decided to write about these thoughts a bit as I’ve been thinking about them all day.

It’s crazy how easy it is to think of today as just “another day.”
I walked into work this morning and thought, “How is today different from yesterday?” If it isn’t, I’m wasting my time on earth. That’s nuts.

I’ve gone through a bit of a dry spell trying to write over the last few weeks. It seems like my days are consumed working my day job, and every night I have had some sort of commitment to attend. There have been songs itching to make their way to the surface, but no vessel of time to bring them from their reclusion to realization. It’s a poor excuse, but I can’t write very well when I’m tired, and I have been nothing but tired every night (the only time I have to write) recently. 

The last three days I’ve put on hold some chores that needed doing, some details that probably needed tending to, and decided to sit down and put to paper the songs that have been lingering. Writing always makes me feel productive and reinvigorated about life. The songs may not have been great or noteworthy, but it’s more about the process than the product. I always tell myself if the song wasn’t good, it had to be written to make room for a better one.

Coming into work today, it dawned on me: if I’m not writing, not progressing my  life or the lives of others in some way each day, then what am I doing? Moving through motions in order to feed and entertain a body that is only here momentarily.

What are you doing to make today different from yesterday? If there is no growth, there is decay.