To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.

Being alive is a strange enough fact that attending to it properly would fill a day on its own. Most of what we call busyness is a way of not looking at it. There is no scolding in that, only a note that the plainest facts of being here outrank almost everything that crowds them out.

Give five minutes this week to something ordinary you usually pass over: the light in a room, a face you know well, your own breathing. Do not try to make anything of it. The startling part is already there and does not need your help.