Maybe Tomorrow

My last post was about waiting for the words to come.  They come.  They always come.  I said that.  I believe that.  And so I went into waiting mode.  It didn't seem like they would come.  Ever.  Ever again.  I kept thinking, "Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow the words will come, I will feel moved."  And so another day would pass.

Then just a little while ago, tonight, now, I realized (once again) that waiting is a very passive activity.  It is living in expectation.  It is not living.  It is not living at all.  It is hoping for something that is beyond that proverbial rainbow.  Well, my friends, it is true: there is no place like home.  And home is where the heart is.  And the heart beats moment to moment keeping the body going to house the spirit that dwells within.  And that, is life.  Life does not happen tomorrow.  It happens now.  And now is all there is.

I have noticed I say to myself, "Maybe tomorrow".  "Maybe tomorrow I will do this or that.  I just don't feel like it now."  And then tomorrow comes and goes and much goes left undone.  The regrets and unfinished business gets piled up in the corner...much like the spare room whose door I keep closed.  It is a messy little secret that I keep hidden from the world. 

But now I have opened the door (again) and here we go.  Maybe tomorrow....maybe tomorrow is...today.