Time is relative
In any given day it does seem that there are not enough hours. But what a gift that is. I have been through experiences in my life in which the hours stretched, empty, monotonous and unchanging… hours that had no hope or thought for the future. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that my hours would be so packed that I would look out the side door and think…”wait a minute… what day is it? Is it morning or evening?” I do know that my front door looks east and my back door looks west. I live on a hill so often the light is similar at either end of the day.
What does it mean to be productive? I don’t measure it in goods produced or words written… I don’t count the stitches or the emails. At the end of the day, if I can look back and know I did the best I could, and that someone else’s day might be a little better as well.
Today I am writing few words. I hope they outline my outlook for the future with the light of that sun, whichever way it is moving.
Carol LeBaron
www.followcarollebaron.com
