Like smells that dissipate over time – skunk and cinnamon, lemon oil and wet dog – past fame doesn’t fill current space. Whatever accomplishments I achieved yesterday – a good deed for a stranger, a well written paragraph in my work in progress, an angry retort I wish I could annul (not glory but shame) – are not enough for today. Tomorrow waits to be filled with distinction.
The past is a nebulous landscape, the future a cryptic horizon. Only the slipstream under my feet energizes today. Today exists for an infinitesimal moment, archaic while the moment passes.
Waft cautiously, ingest deeply. Exhale with resolve. Roll up my sleeves, engage today’s pursuits. Smells invigorate this moment, an elixir of potential.
Just a Thought 31
Alchimiste, 1648, by David III Ryckaert