I’ll know the names of all of the birds
and flowers, and not only that, I’ll
tell you the name of the piano player
I’m hearing right now on the kitchen
radio, but I won’t be in the kitchen,

I’ll be walking a street in
New York or London, about
to enter a coffee shop where people
are reading or working on their
laptops. They’ll look up and smile.

Next time I won’t waste my heart
on anger; I won’t care about
being right. I’ll be willing to be
wrong about everything and to
concentrate on giving myself away.

Next time, I’ll rush up to people I love,
look into their eyes, and kiss them, quick.
I’ll give everyone a poem I didn’t write,
one specially chosen for that person.
They’ll hold it up and see a new
world. We’ll sing the morning in,

and I will keep in touch with friends,
writing long letters when I wake from
a dream where they appear on the
Orient Express. “Meet me in Istanbul,”
I’ll say, and they will.
~Joyce Sutphen “Next Time” from After Words

Oh sure – there are many things I would do differently if I could go back for a do-over. A lifetime is inevitably shot through with mistakes, poor choices and unfortunate opinions; mine is no different.

Yet there isn’t a “next time” or a “do-over.” It’s up to me with the time I have left to correct where I’ve been wrong and avoid repeating history.

Most important, I want to bask in the abundant blessings of the here and now.

I still have time to smile and laugh more, hug more, give myself away more, forgive more, sing more, be more grateful.

With this approach to the world I now occupy, I can share what delights me as it might delight others.

That’s still plenty to ponder and try to get right in this life.
I best get to it.
Sing the morning in with me, whoever and wherever you are.