Still alive, to my surprise

Got up this morning, did some writing, then hit the road for a run.

At the edge of a hill, I paused, watching a landscape dance through valleys beneath the shadows of other hills. The sun continued its ascent, slipping through breaks in a cloud of clouds, spotlighting a compound here, a cluster of brown roofs there.

Then it dawned on me… how did I get here? How am I alive today? How did I wake up from my slumber? There are a thousand ways I could have died yesterday, ten thousand over the past week. My lungs could have collapsed, my heart attacked, my brain shut down. I could have been hit by a car, slipped in the bath, or slumped for reasons that spark posthumous tweets about taking medical check-ups seriously.

But here I am—hale, hearty, alive. Gifted another 24 hours.

Jogging back home, the rising sun seemed to follow, reminding me this new gift of time is already running out.

If I had died in my sleep, I wouldn’t be able to add to a page to my book draft, now I must. If I had died in my sleep, I wouldn’t be able to call my parents one more time, take one more step to help our client, commend my team member for that thing they did well yesterday, or send that overdue apology, offer, or proposal. Now I must.

Since it’s such a surprise to have one more day (or at least a few hours), I may as well put it to good use.