Engaging with Our Daily Reality

Awakening from our overnight slumber, what we feel is suddenly dictating—at a subconscious level—how the rest of our day is to be approached.

There’s the carry-over of yesterday’s issues, those also of our ungrounded assumptions and our baggage, as well as the plans we have ahead, including those very plans of this day.

What is before us?—the great big whopping unknown.

Will this day be a run-of-the-mill day or will it be uniquely special in any thousands of ways?

As we proceed through our early morning and into our mid-day we contend the best we can with what comes our way—good day or not-so-good we’re engaging as only we know how, at the time.

We’re all alone and we know it. This, at some points, creates discomfort for us in our fears, but most of the time we enjoy the luxury of our thoughts, kept in secret, shared only with God and chosen others.

As conflicts arise—visceral and relational—we meet them, grappling in the moment for composure, good thought, courage, the right words and body language; self restraint in a concept—the clamouring for wisdom; anything to get us through.

Our hearts are won to love also, and surprisingly easily at that! Either the passions are stirred or we’re ‘hit’ with any amount of combinations of attraction; not simply the obvious kinds.

People tell us not to worry about our loved ones and our futures but we can’t help thinking about them. Those of faith, of course, pray.

As each second of each hour of each day passes, we consider time—we can’t help having our perceptions about it, attributions of what we’ve seen, heard, experienced. All of it is significant.

We receive information and we assimilate it, all through our waking days.

The mid-afternoon is the mid-life of our day—the time we feel most at ease with it; we’re neither planning nor reflecting—just busy doing.

As evening beckons we struggle with the defeat of tiredness and we again contend; that or submit. Time to relax may perhaps be fleeting and at times we’ll spend it all too soon by thinking too far forward of it—perhaps to the frivolously tenuous cares of the morrow.

As we retire for a night’s hard-earned rest we do what we’ll inevitably do; that’s to die (temporarily) to consciousness and enter—for a time—another world, trusting as we do our bodies, minds and souls to our Creator.

And this was just one day.

© 2010 S. J. Wickham.