Tomorrow I will watch the sun rise. Instead of sitting here infusing my system with more coffee and stiffening my neck and wearing down my fingertips, I will put on a hat and coat and scarf and gloves and walk around the corner and watch the sun rise. At 6:30 or 7 was it? It seems so long ago. It was beautiful, though, the sunrise. Gold and purple and magenta and orange. I sat here watching it from my office window thinking “I should go watch the sun rise.”
I kept thinking that until it had risen and washed out the sky to a pale and overcast gray. The effort required would have take too much time away from this — this damn machine and this damn work and…and…tomorrow I will watch the sunrise.
Do you think people think the same thing the day before they die? Or the day before some major life change happens and they can’t? Can’t watch the sun rise. Can expect tomorrow.
What does that say about us and our plans and our lists and our dreams? About the things we say we’ll do when…when we have time, when we’re finished working, when we win the lottery, when we are done.
Why do we just sit here, watching out the window, thinking of the things we’d rather be doing? The things we want to do?
Is that what Nike means? Just do it?
Just have the conversation.
Just make the change.
Just take the chance.
Just let go.
Just watch the sun rise.
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“On a Sunrise,” ©2012, Jen Payne, Branford, CT.