Years ago I visited a convent of cloistered nuns. Throughout the day and night at regular intervals, they came together to sing and chant. At other times they worked in the fields and gardens or other such jobs. At the time, their lives seemed to have little meaning to me.
But I never forgot this experience, and one day a realization came to me. I go about my day rushing from task to task, not realizing that many of them are not really meaningful at all, while they glorify each day, piece by piece, job by job, acknowledging the gift that each day can be.
The daily tasks can be the same, but the attentiveness can be transformative.
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