Blessed are we, the breathing, blessed for the hours, the minutes, the fleeting seconds that constitute our days. Blessed for the seeing, for the hearing, the touching, blessed for the Being of we cannot do any of those. Blessed for the time we’ve been gifted, blessed for the ability to dream, to believe, to hope, to hold onto what we hold dear. Blessed, and forgetful, we. Forgetful for the gifts, forgetful for the truth that we decide how to value the hours we are given, we decide what’s blessing, what’s curse.
Let me not waste it,
this beautiful gift of time.
I will spend wisely.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
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I want to say thank you, Tyler for your words that somehow always hold meaning for me. The last 5-6 years have been challenging, and your Typewriter series got me through. I have your books, and I'm going to try again to work my way through Miracles in the Mundane, finding small joys in my every day. Thank you for your words.
This was beautiful. Lately I've been trying to find ways to have the simple things be enough for me again. So often we get caught up in material things, or things in life that we do. I've learned that the only way to hang on to some string of happiness indefinitely is to find it in the natural things in and around us. Our working minds, our unique perspective, feeling the bark of a tree or feeling the sun on your face. Everything else besides that is an addition, but not a necessary part of our happiness foundation.