“Teach me to number my days…” so I’ve got 39 tallies on the back of a Spar receipt. They’re numbered. And in all likelihood, there are 102 more tallies to add to that. But just adding a number to the day doesn’t add meaning, does it?
Is it what we do with the day, with the hours? Is it how we feel? Is it what we learn? Is it what we eat? (please, oh please, let it be what we eat)
Is it who we love? How we love? How clean our house is? How short our to-do list?
Is it who we help? Where we go? Where we don’t go? What we say? What we think? What we don’t say or think?
Is it ‘D’, “all of the above (and then some)”?
Does today’s meaningfulness or lack thereof depend on yesterday or tomorrow? Or is it just about today? When did today begin? When I first opened my eyes and decided the day wasn’t ripe enough yet? What it the second time? Was it at the first sip of coffee or the first spoonful of yogurt? Was it the first smile I exchanged with a stranger on the street or my first footstep into the grocery store?
What makes today count?
I want today to count. To count as a day where I did something or said something or thought of something. A day where I didn’t just survive but thrived. What makes a day cross the threshold from a day where we existed to a day where we lived?
More than just a tally, but a tally with memories and accomplishments. Accomplishments? Maybe not a certificate but a new muscle or a train of thought, new pages read or written. Old pages revisited, old muscles re-strengthened. Memories? Maybe not in picture form but in character shaping form or paradigm shifting form.
Oh, God, let Today change me. Let me live today fully, whatever that means. Let me thrive and accomplish, not by the world’s standards of checklists and paychecks but by making some progress on your scale, to go further into what you’re doing in and with me.
Let it be more than my 40th tally.