Tonight I feel tired and unfocused.  What did I do today?  Actually, when I think about it, I did some significant things.  I started my day with meditation and prayer, breakfast, and two newspapers.  I washed the kitchen rag-rug that my cat Molly peed on the night before.  (What is wrong with that animal??) 

I got dressed and went to church, where I had a meeting with our new intern minister.  I had a lengthy pastoral care session with a young man who is searching for his vocation.  I went for a walk in the sunshine and then shopping, chiefly as a distraction. 

I visited a dying man.  I told him that he was doing this final job really well, and he seemed to appreciate that.  He is a class act.  I told him that, too. 

I drove home, walked to a nearby shop just before it closed, and bought a birthday gift for my best friend.  I feel certain she’ll like it.  

I started making dinner for the man in my life and me, and in the middle of preparing the dish, I realized that I didn’t have an important ingredient.  I got back in the car and drove four blocks to get what I needed.  I finished making the meal.  I ate dinner with my guy, and we cleaned up the kitchen.  I answered my e-mail. 

I wanted to work on a book project today, but it is now almost 10:00 p.m., and I am tired.  I will get ready for bed soon, and then watch Jon Stewart and though I’ll try not to, I’ll probably fall asleep sometime during the Colbert Report.

It’s not that I regret anything that I did today–now that I’m reviewing it, I realize it was all good stuff, human stuff.  But I need time to write, and I just can’t seem to carve it out.  I often think these days about how much more time I will have on this earth–I mean, how much more good time, time when I can create and give generously of myself. 

The days go ever more swiftly by.  I want to be conscious of how I’m spending those precious days.  I want to be as fully present as possible with my engagements, as they offer themselves.  And I want to spend more of my time with writing.  It’s pulling at me something fiercely, and won’t let me go.  When that happens, you just need to pay attention.