Every morning we are resurrected from the small death, emerge from the cocoon our dying self made the night before, and crawl about gaining our senses.

We wander about performing tasks, learning what we can about this crazy world, and finding ways to entertain ourselves and perhaps others.

All too soon darkness falls. If we are wise, we take some time at the end to reflect on this 15- to 18-hour life and perhaps we leave notes for our next self to find.

Then we make a cocoon, wrap ourselves in it, and yield to the small death, thankful for a day survived and a new life awaiting in the morning.

o o o o o

I wonder how our lives might change if we took the perspective that we only have this one day to live.

It a very real sense, today is in fact all we have. That’s why it’s called reality — only this moment is real. We can’t touch the past, though we remember it, and we don’t know the future, no matter how much we plan.

All we have is this moment — the birdsong outside the window, the drone of machines coursing up and down the hill or flying overhead, the breathing of the other occupants in the home, the dust and dirt to remove.

All of it, right here in this moment. What shall you do with this moment that is here and now and all around you?

As for me, I will pause and look about and listen and breathe, to get my bearings, and soon I will get up from the chair and see what I can do.

I almost wrote, “I will get up from the chair and see what happens,” but that implies that I’m just a spectator. If this moment is all I have, I think I would rather be doing.