I am Lance Conrad, author of the Historian Tales series. My currently published books, The Price of Creation, The Price of Nobility, and The Weight of Swords are available through Amazon, Dawn Star Press, and other excellent booksellers. Thank you for reading!

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Unto the day...

    I read some words today, as I am prone to do. These words were "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." There is something special about that thought. We are a nation and a society that gets entirely lost in time. Somehow, we have managed to spread ourselves out over our own timelines. This is the worst kind of time travel... ever. We anchor ourselves in the past and then reach hard for the future, stretching ourselves beyond our means and straining the present to a breaking point.
    In this twisted system, we place our greatest triumphs and tragedies beyond our reach in both directions. Driven by our memories of successes and failures already faded, our attention is on the future, hoping for its prizes and fearing its pitfalls.
    It's too much to handle and we don't really handle it well. Imagine then, what it would be like if we brought this stretched existence back into focus. Leave only wisps of will and memory to act as guideposts in past and future. With that kind of presence in the present, a man or woman might just be able to cope with the evils of any given day. Imagine the sanguine sleep you would enjoy after a day where you had helped the people right in front of you, forgave the wrongs that threatened to lower your spirit, and worked hard so you could end the day with pride.

    Surely that would be enough for a day.

1 comment:

  1. Wow, thank you for posting this . . . . two years and some months ago. :)
    I have always had a hard time wrapping my mind around the meaning of that sentence; and not for lack of effort because it directly follows some of my favorite verses . . . Yet for some reason I have never really been able to clearly discern the connection between theses words and the ones preceding them. I feel extremely humbled and silly now for not being able to see it before. Although, I suspect the word 'evil' might be somewhat to blame. I think I have a subconscious aversion to that word, so perhaps some part of me didn't really want to understand because I didn't want anything that had to do with evil to relate to the loveliness of 'consider the lilies.'
    I think I've always felt the above sentence to be a rude and abrupt ending to some good poetry. Thank you for opening my eyes.