You may not even have an hour.
You may not even have thirty minutes – the length of an inane sitcom—completely and entirely to yourself.
But you have five minutes. Everyone has five minutes.
Don’t be fibbing me. Or yourself.
You can carve out five minutes.
You can be the busiest person in the world. You can be living the life of a Rock Star, flying in Lear jets to London for your next concert, having back-to-back interviews with the BBC, dressing in disguise to avoid the groupies, doing a sound check and a radio show and a meet-and-greet with a local contest winner, and you can still find five minutes. That’s just the time it takes to yell at the tour manager that your concert rider said yellow M&Ms and Pepsi and all you have are green M&Ms and Sprite.
You could take that five minutes right there.
And stop.
And be still.
And look around.
And breathe.
And express gratitude.
And compassion.
And appreciate The Moment.
And stay in The Present.
And connect with The Universe.
But even if you can’t find five minutes.
You can take that one breath.
And do exactly the same thing.
But really?
Everyone has five minutes. TZT