You might have already heard about the book of six-word memoirs called Not Quite What I Was Planning. (There's a neat little video on the Amazon page that gives you the gist.)
I started thinking about what mine would be.
I could focus on my inability to dress myself (pants are black; socks are brown) or my not-so-inner child (32 and still play with Transformers).
If I consider the general course of my life, I'm more likely to say: Ridiculously lucky; don't deserve all this.
But maybe more accurately: Frequently get distracted from what's important.
That last one's a bit too accurate. I get distracted so easily. I can bury myself in a hobby or project. I can get carried away in an argument -- in either sense of the word. It's so easy to focus on the next twenty minutes when the next twenty years matter so much more.
And then there are the times I push my kids off so I can do something of minimal importance when I should jump at the chance to dance with Cinderella.
Since we've moved, I've had a little trouble getting back into the groove of blogging. Instead I've spent more time with my kids and helped around the house a bit more. While I hope to get more regular about posting, I don't think I'm going to let it take up quite as much time as I used to.
I'm also going to try to refocus on those things that matter forever, to fix my eyes on the unseen. I want to remember that more important than winning a fight is loving my wife and better than winning an argument is winning a soul.
At the end of my days, I want my six-word memoir to say: "Old is gone; new has come."