Last night, as I lay in bed, wandering around in the dark world of 3 a.m., I cast my mind back to the days when sleep was just a thing I did. I puzzled over it a bit. Thought about the places I’d been and the things I’d done. For some reason I settled on the Marine Base at Quantico. It was my last year of military service. I clerked for the base psychiatrist and psychologist. I typed reports. Talked to patients. I played fast pitch softball. Six man football. Listened to music. Played a little guitar. Went into D.C to go clubbing.

That essentially was my life. The same in its essence as it had been the year before in Charleston when I worked at the Naval Hospital. Played fast pitch softball. Six man football. Listened to music. Played a little guitar. And went surfing at Folly Beach. Or before that as a civilian just out of high school. I worked at Ma Bell. Played my guitar. Sang. What all of those places had in common was that I had no past, and the future was an indeterminate thing stretching out endlessly before me. My world was my immediate surroundings. The present.

My sleepy brain thought, we need that mindset again. We have a nice place to live. We play golf. We hike the mountains and hills. Heck, we even have the same guitar. Sure, we have a past now. But we don’t live there. We live here. And the future still stretches out in front of us just as far now as it did then. Because no one is guaranteed a tomorrow. This, right here, is what we have. And sure, we’ll think about tomorrow, and even plan a bit. But let’s enjoy this. So, what say we go to sleep, and see what tomorrow if it comes, brings. I thought about it for a moment and agreed with my mind. I went to sleep. And here I am, and I think it might be a good day.