No, as far as these things are concerned, there is just today, beautiful, perfectly, joyfully, tragically unfolding, however it may. Everything else - yesterday, tomorrow - is simply a story we tell ourselves. They are powerful stories, to be certain, stories which inform our choices and our emotion and awareness, but really the only thing that truly exists is this moment we've been given.
From my journal Monday 5 October 2009.
The end of that journal got really spastic. As in, of the last five entries, I wrote the word UGH at least eight times. The final entry even consisted of only that single word, 31 December 2009: UGH, and then nothing else for the rest of the book. I had to move on to the next notebook with seven blank pages remaining, just because I needed a fresh start (and what a coincidence it aligned perfectly with the calendar year this time!). Anyway, though, I was looking back through for something profound that somebody had said that I thought I'd recorded, but I didn't find the profound statement. Instead I came across the above little nugget, which is also profound, in its way. It is nice to go back and re-read and surprise yourself that maybe you can sometimes write things that are a little bit wise or beautiful, even if you have pages and pages filled with UGH UGH UGH in large childish scrawl.
Like Ju-Ju Pup always has at the bottom of her emails, that uniquely human marriage of the infinite and the mundane within each of us...