A week ago, when my trip to Ghana was postponed unexpectedly, I determined to make the most out of the days - or even weeks - which I had not anticipated being in Columbus, Indiana.
I wish I could boast that I had accomplished that goal.
It's been a mixed bag at best.
At my best, I was able to make some real progress on my book. I now feel confident that I am on the right track with my current approach. Also, I was able to get a few things done around the house and I made progress on updating a website for work.
But too much of my past week has been spent in unanswerable questions:
- Why? Why? Why? (I spent a lot of time here.)
- What could I have done differently to guarantee me boarding that plane?
- What is the quickest and surest path now to assure I will be on an upcoming flight?
Often these questions just devolved into self-pity.
I will say that, overall, as I get older, I am beginning to realize how much time - and how little time - a single week is.
If a person lives to be 90 years old, he or she gets 4,680 weeks of life.
At 54, I have already burned through over 2,808 weeks of my own life.
There's no guarantee that I will make it to my 90th birthday. But even if I do and I get another 1,872 weeks, how many of those weeks will be truly productive?
It seems to me that redeeming the time is a worthy goal. And the nice thing about a new week starting is that it is another opportunity to pursue that goal.
Let's see what this week holds!
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