Blank Pages and Time

  I love blank pages.  Never been marred by pen or pencil.  Open to all the possibilities. 
  I especially enjoy looking at blank calendar pages.  For the time that it's blank it means I don't HAVE to do anything.  I like that thought. 
   It never stays that way.  I always have to write some one's lessons in, or remind myself of some appointment. 
     'Cause we all know that if it isn't on the calendar it isn't happening.
   Funny,  I'm always a little sad to turn the page, as much as I love that fresh new page. 
   I know that I have to write on it, or those $70 violin lessons will go to waste. We won't show up for swimming lessons because no one remembered, we'll miss those free skating days, and who wants to miss the free things!
   Turning the page means no more going back.  That month, that year is gone.  How many moments passed me by?  Did I tell my children I love them enough?  Did I show it?
   That time is gone and never to return.  It's a death of a thing, time.  We only get so much.  If we don't spend it wisely we waste it.  Regardless of how we use it we run out, always.
  Time waits for no one.  It has no favorites and cares not for our need of more.  Time can not be saved or borrowed.  It is here for the moment and gone.  Moving on, forward marching, whether we are dragging behind, in-step or trying stay ahead.
  Learning to be here, right now in this moment.  Why is that so hard?  It is the only time we really have, right now.  Yesterday is gone, tomorrow may not come.  How do I just be here, and understand it's the only place I can really be?