I have sixty seconds to live in 8:30 AM. Once the zero becomes a one, the chance to live that minute is forever gone. There will be no October 2, 2023,, at 8:30 AM ever again.
I have sixty minutes to live the hour of three in the afternoon. Three thousand six hundred seconds of time ticking away.
I have 24 hours to live a single day. Seven days in which to live a single week. A month, a year, a decade. These only matter in the face of passing time.
In twenty years, will it matter what I did that afternoon in high school when I read for three hours straight? In five years will it matter what I ate for breakfast this morning? In one year, will it matter if I was maximally efficient for the minimal amount time I can stay at maximum? In one month will I care if my bed was made every morning of every day? In one week, will it matter if I completed every task on my daily to-do? In one hour, will it matter how I just spent the last? In one minute, will I care how I responded to another person?
How I respond one minute adds up to the consequences of years. It matters no matter the time frame.
The build-up of hours is all we have in this life, so it matters what I do.
But when I get to the passing of weeks, the passing of months and years, in retrospect, how much do the little things matter? I can’t even remember what felt so urgent a year ago or even a month ago.
Time, looking ahead is a mist. Time, looking back becomes misty. Time, right now, is all I have. But will it matter, this choice I make right now, later? Perhaps. But perhaps not. It depends on the consequences.
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