Wednesday, November 7, 2012


Each morning begins the same
I'm gifted (because it's not a given)
A day, a pocketful of hours (24 to be precise)
Some I've spent already, on sleep and dreams
Necessary. Needed.
Some I'll spend on phone calls, bills, laundry, dishes.
Some days leave upon my steps, just outside my door
Challenges, unbidden. Some days, some hours are spent there.
But almost never is there a day when I can not choose
How to invest some moments of my day.
Hours on some days, moments on others.
But never has there been a day where not a single moment is mine to shape.
The trick, I've discovered, is choosing wisely, choosing well.
Tic-toc-the-unstoppable-clock allows me to decide....
Will I worry? Fret? Be vexed? Be annoyed.
Yes, sometimes.
Waste. So often, a waste. 
Will I smile? Be kind? If not forgive, at least forget? Count my joys?
Yes, sometimes.
I'd not toss money out the window, not leave the outer doors
Agape when the heat is running. Nor would I use my white blouse
To wipe a grape juice spill. That would be silly.
Yet I'm learning still to be a wise and better overseer of
My hours.
My days.
My moments.
I will not have a chance to call 'do-over' on any day once passed.
There's always tomorrow - (until there isn't that is....)
Note to self:
Make better choices, more often
With those hours that
 Issy ~  November 2012

1 comment:

Bovey Belle said...

What a wonderfully contemplative piece of writing, and some wise words in it too.

I am afraid my life is working on a somewhat basic level at the moment - a keeping my head above water, investing my time in renovating things to sell sort of time. Needs must.

I always like to look back on my days and think, "What did I achieve today?"

Today is a day off though (my husband's birthday) and so I am hoping our day out together will allow a little space for the little descriptive phrases which hit me when we are driving through such beautiful scenery, and have to be jotted down before they are forgotten.