Today is Monday September 2.
It is also… simply, today.
Today that starts for me the moment I woke up (a little roughly, this morning) and will end the moment I fall asleep tonight.
In between these two very specific instants, a Container. A Container with walls (the the moment I woke up and the moment I fall asleep) and a nice round space in the middle.
Chances are that within these walls, in that nice round space, there will be time spent in the bathroom, tending to my body; time spent eating, time spent talking, moving; time spent talking with people, and also quiet time. These things happen most days.
Because I have a tiny bit of familiarity with today already, I am guessing that there will be some pieces of traveling, too. On buses, trains and by foot. I know I will hear sounds I do not hear “back home,” words spoken in a language I do not understand as readily as I understand English or French.
Today has an Essence of Adventure built into it. A lovely Container.
And then, the unknown. Including not knowing - for certain - that today will end uneventfully in a bed. Not knowing for certain that today will not be the last day of my life. Do we ever know?
Do you ever know?
But we assume and in assuming we assume that as we go to sleep, on the outer edge of that Container, we will re-set the clock and that we will have many more Containers. In fact we won’t even have to do it, it will happen automatically.
Chances are that it will.
And yet. In the last weeks I have known on several Containers whose outer wall held huge surprises. Surprises no one could have guessed. Surprises that changed the courses of many, many lives - and ended some.
So today, as I watch the sun rise over the hills of Tuscany, as I try to let my brain catch up with the knowing that I spent most of yesterday sitting on various comfortable chairs flying across the planet, I feel awe, anticipation and respect for this new Container ahead of me. Ahead of us.
Today is Monday, September 2 and I look forward to getting to know it.
My new book