Times Gone By

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I catch my reflection, gaze unabashed. Walking toward me as I approach the office door. Keeping my stride as I walk past the windowed shops downtown. And I wonder: how did I get here? Nearly 40, trousers and overcoat, settling in for a day at the office. So serious, so put together, so adult. Not the scrunchi and miniskirt-wearing teenager I expect to see.

The days are long, but the years are short.

Today, a former colleague, whom I haven’t seen in years, stops by my office. A high school friend and I run into each other at the yoga studio. News of another high school classmate is posted on Facebook; a tragic car accident taking his life. Their names and faces, the sound of their voices, all still so familiar.

Indeed, the years are short. And while the days can seem neverending, they’re far from unlimited. I caught a commercial on TV recently–for Michigan tourism of all things–emphasizing that all we get is 25,000 mornings–give or take. 25,000 may sound like a lot, but that only 68 years. So why waste a single one?


©2012 Good Karma Housekeeping. (Photo by Karl Gunnarsson via Creative Commons.)





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