Some days, at least for me, we observe our own lives as if we are outside of ourselves. Watching us go through the motions. Doing our best to connect with ourselves, to be present and in the moment. Getting through what we need to get through as best as we can, but not entirely capable of really being there.
Because our minds are in other places, our hearts are loudly interrupting our thoughts, because our pain–mental, or spiritual, or physical–clouds everything else.
We do our best to be. But sometimes we are only able to observe. And hope that we can be more actively present in our own selves tomorrow.