Yesterday morning, I caught a glimpse of what it might feel and look like to live my life as a writer. I must admit, I liked it.

Although I did not rise as as early as I would have liked – I find my ideal waking hour is between 6:00 and 6:45am – I nonetheless embarked on my morning rituals. I’ll spare you those details. After my morning practice, I immediately began to put pen to paper. Or as immediately as my morning latte could be whipped up. There were no restrictions on my time. Nothing pressing or urgent. No emails or Facebook posts that couldn’t wait. Admittedly with less than three weeks to go at work, it’s safe to say my attitude is leaning a little more laissez-faire. Like a wonderful first date, time was of no consequence and the outside world disappeared. It was just me, my journal, and my creamy caffeinated concoction to keep the juices flowing.

I am soaking up my remaining days here in Austin, filling my calendar with only appointments and social calls that make me feel good. Ones I know I’ll want to keep. If you’re reading this and find yourself spending time with me in the next few weeks, rest assured I want to be there with you. Every day spent at home, every minute with friends feels more precious. For who knows when I’ll be back in this space again?

It got me thinking – what if, regardless if we are on a countdown clock or have an external time restriction, we basked in the joy of every day? If every moment were considered precious – one we may never experience again. Would we be living our lives differently?

I liked how yesterday morning felt. I enjoyed how the day unfolded. Productivity without urgency. One thing at a time with writing being a priority. After that – space. For unexpected reunions, conversations with friends and self care. Room to laugh and learn. I retired to bed exhausted, but with full delight. It’s a new way of living for me, but one in which I find much more pleasure and joy. It’s how I would like every day to go now that I’m a writer.