Warmth

This might sound a little strange, but bear with me.

Ninety-eight percent of the time, the second I get out of bed in the morning, I IMMEDIATELY start making it.

I pull the fitted sheet tight, eager to feel the lingering warmth from where I just lay. I grab the top sheet, smoothing it out. Its patches of warmth and coolness remind me of the comfort I just left behind. Then, I fluff the pillows, most of them still warm from where my head rested or my arms wrapped around them.

That warmth is physical proof. Proof of what? This is where it gets a little weird but stay with me.

The warmth left behind in that freshly abandoned bed is evidence of my past self. It’s a subtle, almost magical reminder that I was just there, that my presence left an impression on the sheets, pillows, and mattress. This is my daily reminder that everything I do leaves a mark on my surroundings, the people I encounter, and the life I’m building.

Sometimes, I look at old photos and think, That girl would be proud I did x, y, and z. Other times, a memory surfaces, and I wince, wishing I’d been more patient, more kind, more thoughtful. But those photos and memories (somehow) feel distant, like watching a movie about someone else’s life.

The warmth of my bed, though? That’s immediate. It’s right there every morning, whispering to me: Make today count. It reminds me that my choices today need to do two things:

1. Make my younger self proud

2. Make my future self grateful

If I live with those goals in mind, maybe when I take my last breath, I’ll hear Him say, “Well done.”

Now that’s a warmth worthy of immediate pursuit, don’t ya think?