I want to be careful about how much time I’m spending thinking about ‘what was’ or ‘what might be,’ for in doing so I will spend my life missing ‘what is.

I might want to start paying real close attention to today because it will shape the yesterday that I will be thinking about tomorrow.

If we abandon the past in the pursuit of the future, we’ve left all of the construction materials behind. So, we might show up at the site, but we’re not going to be building anything.

If all that we see are the scattered pieces of ‘what was,’ the story of ‘what is yet to be’ will never be told. If, however, we are able to envision the pieces as what they are now freed to be, the story of ‘what is yet to be’ will stand among the greatest ever told.

If all we see are cinders and ashes, all we see is ‘what was’ at the expense of what the cinders and ashes are preparing to be.

f all we see are cinders and ashes, all we see is ‘what was’ at the expense of what the cinders and ashes are preparing to be.

To look to the future and then back to the past and be unable to make neither ‘hide nor hair’ of either suggests that we should begin planning the former so that the latter starts making sense.

To create a beginning is to fashion an ending. And to experience an ending is to create space for a beginning. And in this choreographed cycle I can always have confidence that any wall is a door waiting to happen.

I wouldn’t suggest that we fear the past. Nor would I suggest that we find ourselves frightened by the future. Rather, I would suggest that we learn from the former to enhance the latter. And not to do that would be the thing I’d fear.