middles

I spend so much time worrying about finishing something—a book (reading or writing), a project, hell, even folding the laundry. Getting things done. I feel satisfied getting things done.

So, I spend much of my life wanting to finish.

Needing to get to the end.

And yet.

Finishing something is such a small part of life. And if we get to the end, well, it’s the end. No more.

I need to remember that.

And pay a bit more attention to the part I’m in. Which will almost always be the middle.