A phone call in the middle of the night. A thirty-second conversation with a doctor. One routine blood test. A wrong turn on a road you drive everyday. An argument with a friend. An email from a stranger. A letter from a person in your past.
There are 86,400 seconds in one day. Each next second can erase what we carried inside just moments before. I worry so much about what I am unable to hold tight in my grasp; I detest those life changes that slap a waterfall of cold water on my face. Part of my fear lies in my absolute hatred of uncertainty. I’ve talked again and again that I am a faithful creature of routine. Any deviation sometimes pushes me to the brink.
Everyday I hear about someone who is struggling with their crisis second. Some people I know, others are filtered in the news. This morning I read this story. A young mother in India lost all three of her girls on the same day. They were found at the bottom of a well, raped and murdered. That mother, how does she move forward? How does she live every next second? So many, hurting, fighting, trying to understand that the reality that they once knew is now just a memory. This past week, I’ve learned about a 33-year-old man diagnosed with leukemia, a 48-year-old woman fighting breast cancer, and a couple that are on the brink of divorce.
One second. Oh, I fear its power. But it also propels my choice to seek gratitude. Savor every second where I am able to sink into the certainty. What do those seconds look like? I savor my cup of coffee every morning. I am filled with gratitude that I am able to walk, use my hands to brew a cup, and sip slow without any encumbrances. Every time I talk to my mom I am grateful that I still have a link back to my past. The other moments are sprinkled everywhere. A good laugh with my sister. Watching my daughter scream with glee at the sight of ice cream. A morning run. Watching the sun sink behind the mountains. A late night coffee date with a good friend. Movie nights with my husband.
These seconds. The ones that fills me with love and comfort. I wrap my fingers around those tight. Living, loving, laughing for one more second.
Around the corner, that next second. I have no idea.
So right now. No fear.
But a realization, that this second is enough.
Image by nicksarebi via Flickr