525,600 is the number of minutes in a year. When RENT was a hit show on Broadway, I was college student. My life wasn’t measured in moments, it was measured in semesters and spring breaks. My responsibilities included waking up before noon, not burning down my apartment, and going to class (although not in the rain, I had a strict policy against that).
College days ended and I found myself in the world of the young professional. Still moments didn’t matter too much, happy hour was my primary focus.
And then I blinked and I was a mother. Moments became my life. Births, first steps, loose teeth. All moments to savor and remember and to capture.
Oh how far I have come from that stupid student. Today I treasure the moments of my life. Recently I’ve started to focus on my personal moments. The ones that don’t necessarily involve my family and children. At first this seemed selfish, but over time I started to realize focusing on my personal moments made me a better mother. The moments when it is calm in a yoga class and I hit the stretch and embrace the silence. The moments when I go for a long run by myself and I control my speed and my destination. The moments that shape me as a woman. I love those moments, probably because they are so infrequent.
Yesterday I read this motivational piece in a magazine and smiled. My inner athlete rejoiced. I love that I have an inner athlete now. I didn’t have that drive in my twenties. Sometimes aging is a beautiful thing. It reminds you how far you’ve come. The words from the page just popped up and said, read me. Better yet, live me. These words reminded me of the importance of my moments and my 525,600 minutes.
Find a group.
Find a job.
Roast a chicken.
Run a 5k.
Run a 10k.
Listen. Listen. Listen.
We kick asphalt.
Power to the she.