How To Make Life Count When You're Feeling Wack

So unsurprisingly, my birthday had me splish splashin all up in a pool full of feelings. 

... well some wine and some Tito's too clank clank, but let's focus on them feelings.

On Friday, someone left me an interesting voicemail revealing that thus far I had been alive for 11,323 days.

Hella fucking random, I agree lol.

Nonetheless, a startled me kinda just sank in those five numbers.

Eleven thousand three hundred and twenty-three.

Eventually my mind (and Google) drifted me to 271,752 hours... and then over to 16,305,120 minutes, until I was completely silenced by the magnitude of it all. 

And finally an internal convo started up, reminding me that none of these breaths have 👏🏾 ever 👏🏾 been 👏🏾 owed 👏🏾 to 👏🏾 me 👏🏾

There is absolutely no "minimum length of existence" clause to be found in any of our life contracts. 

So how the hell do I, do WE, make any span of time, whether big or brief, count?

Is doing what we can with what we have, really our only option?


I've been having some uncomfortable staring contests with that bigass space right between potential and reality. 

And one blink hit me with that other option -- doing the BEST with what we have while we can. 

Ain't it crazy how this almost feels like a negative email? LMAO

It's just that truth often acts like a makeup wipe on the face of pretty potential.

But this wipe is so necessary... to see ourselves in the raw is the only way to see our problem areas that gotta get dealt with. Cause even with the best cover up, shit won't truly get resolved.

Now another 11,323 days may come, another 11,323 days may not, but none of those will make a difference if the present moment ain't treated with the utmost care. 

Which is why I had to hit play again on my latest audio vision board, Now Is The Real MVP and set my watch to now o' clock. Not after Thanksgiving. Not after New Years. But, (rhymes with cowwwwww).

I'm confident we're going to Heaven yo, but me gotsta do what I can to make sure our ride there aint making all these stops at Shoulda Woulda Coulda Aves, ya feel me?

Aight tis all! Here's to a life of fulfillment. 

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