To live a day, to care for a single day, is to shape a life. Each day is an opportunity to choose where to place our care. What shall we do today? What simple acts of remembrance will we use to punctuate our time and enrich our walk upon the earth this single day?
—Wayne Muller, How, Then, Shall We Live?
How many kindnesses did I miss today?
How many chances to help another
did I walk past, my eyes somehow fixed
already around the corner? How much beauty
went unnoticed? How much joy left
unspent? I am like the hiker at the foot
of the mountain who wanders in the fog,
not noticing the fog circles only the base. If I chose
to climb just a little, I’d see how red cliffs reflect
afternoon sun, see how new snow
catches in the trees and makes of each limb
a masterpiece. How is it I am not in
a constant state of wonder? Even
the fog gathers the pink of morning,
makes a practice of softening each
surface it touches. So simple,
the art of choosing to pay attention,
a sidewalk not so different in this regard
from a mountain. Every face a chance
to fall in love. Every human story
an opportunity to listen, to place our care.
