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What's REALLY important?

I saw this blog post this morning, with the intriguing title of "The Unimportance of Practically Everything". Since it's from Harvard Business Review, the focus is, well, business. But look:

Why do otherwise intelligent people find it so easy to be distracted from what really matters?


The author talks about a friend who, while a successful business person, is constantly distracted by his cell phone, emails, social media, etc., finding it hard to focus on the most pertinent tasks of his day.

Why do otherwise intelligent people find it so easy to be distracted from what really matters?


Can't we ask exactly the same question about our spiritual lives? We know we should pray regularly. We know we should make time for our marriage and family, our friends and relationships, a priority. We know that spiritual reading will bear fruit. And yet....we are distracted from what really matters.

What really matters?

I used to make a yearly retreat, and the retreat master - every year - gave the same speech at the beginning of the weekend: "The most important work of your life is the salvation of your immortal soul."

What really matters?

“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”- Mt. 22:37-40

Today is a good day to recognize the unimportance of nearly everything, don't you think?

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Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.