Seconds are the gold dust of time. I’ve been unable to discover who wrote that. If you know, tell me. Regardless, it’s true. None of us know when our lives are going to end. If you knew you were going to live a long life, would you regard your seconds as something less than gold?
I’ve come uncomfortably close to death several times in recent years. I remember, during those times, the strange sense of things slipping through my fingers. Matter no longer retains the stability and sturdiness of matter in such circumstances. It becomes something much more delicate.
The universe contracts and you truly find yourself alone on Shakespeare’s stage, spotlit in one tiny pool of light, silent and tensely waiting for the next revolution of the second hand. The spotlight is so bright you cannot see who is watching in the audience.
Keep your dustpan handy and sweep up your seconds. They’re worth something more than gold.