There are a certain number (approximated) of clicks built in to each key on your keyboard, your mouse button, chargers to your charger, etc.  Occasionally, I get caught up in thinking about this.  I begin to wonder which letters I use most frequently and wonder how I might consciously subvert this depreciation by limiting the use of certain words with more of some specific letter(s).  Really, I never get this obsessive about it, but for a few moments it lingers; a brief hesitation in which this thought obscures my original intent.  

When I got sick, this realization that my time is limited here on Earth became a vice.  I didn’t want to move outside of scope from my children and husband.  There was an urgency to spend as much time with them as possible.  The holidays were the hardest because not only did I want to eat up every moment; I wanted every moment to be the summation of every future holiday for which I would not be a part of our girls’ lives. This idea that our bodies will fail us at some point is something most of us are aware of, but move on, like each new stroke of the keyboard, blissfully contented to live in the moment and not worry so much about when the next key will fail to imprint an animated pixel representation of “I” or “U.”  And really, that’s how it was meant to be.  Or we never would have bought into the production of life and living in the first place.

And as I write this, I am aware of the value in each key-stroke, but I am equally aware of the value in not letting this knowledge silence my creativity.