26 May

Concentration upon a task at hand is difficult, if not impossible, when the mind is focussed elsewhere. And only where the labour is of a repetitive kind will outcomes give of satisfaction of some kind.

And so it is with life, and one’s view of time that’s passed. One can linger round about and successfully avoid one’s calling, and reach the end of life moderately fulfilled; for there are so many interesting distractions by which one can be amused. But back of all the nonsense and sky-larking thus enjoyed, there will always linger a sense of doubt, that one may have thus achieved far greater things, and really made a mark; if only for the effort so applied consistently to move towards one’s future consciously.

But this is choice, and free will is a birthright in this land, or so it should be for each and every man. And in one sense there is an eternity to fill, and time is on our side forever more. But beware, procrastination is a formidable disease, and we have, as a race, fallen well behind in terms of evolution. And there will come a time when time will be no more, and those not yet embarking upon a further shore will be asked to thus remain in familiar surrounds, and settle for a moment frozen still in time, which will echo endlessly a distant rhyme of longing, of lost opportunities.

Do not rest too long, therefore, on bended knees. Concentrate on being the all you know you are. Make the effort now so you may reach your brightest star.