No greater threat to our joy than Someday. No greater burden to who we’re meant to be, what we’re meant to do, see, become, enjoy, witness, understand, than procrastination. Someday is the dirty word scrawled into the stone we stand upon, the cigarette butt and the trash, the broken bottle and decay that plants itself between us and happiness. Tomorrow, we think, we’ll begin then, I’m too tired today, there’s too much going on, too much to lose, too much to take care of first. Someday, we say into our own sad eyes staring back in the mirror, and think back to ten thousand yesterdays we said the same thing. We stand and look down at our own feet, dream up excuses that even convince ourselves, and we say them enough they become mantra, they become truth somehow.
Someday, and before we understand how, time has washed over us and we’re shadows of who we were, who we were supposed to be. We’re frozen in place back there, peering over that precipice, repeating that word so many times it loses its meaning. Start now, call it beginning.
Start now if you must
and think not of yesterday.
Call it beginning.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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