What Really Matters
by Karen Frazier, Managing Editor
Paranormal Underground Magazine
There are times in life where something happens that causes everything to snap into focus, and what really matters is crystallized into a single moment of clarity.
Last night, a very popular high school teacher in our town was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was the band director and a dad – three kids. One an infant.
Along with shock and sadness for his friends, family and students, I am reminded of something else. There are things that matter in this world and things that don’t. Our lives are often short – and always precious. And yet, I waste a tremendous amount of energy worrying about the things that don’t matter at the expense of the things that do. Even when our lives our long, we’re only here for a short time. Being with the people we love is what matters. Sharing our Light with the world and finding the Light in others is what matters. All of the other stuff that we waste our time and energy fretting about doesn’t matter in the slightest – even when it seems it does.

I’m sorry Karen.
This is so true Karen. At about the same time that you wrote this blog, maybe a few days before, our medium-sized suburban city was shaken by the news of Shayla Dame, a local elementary school-aged girl who was killed in an automobile accident just a few short miles from where I live. My children, who saw her at school everyday, were thrust into a reality that they hadn’t considered – childhood mortality. When the news came out about Shayla, I was immediately thrown back to the day that I received simlilar news as a child.
I was in third grade and I recall that day vividly. We were all preparing for our school day but two things were missing from the typical morning routine. James, my best friend, was missing and Mrs. Atkins, our teacher, was uncharacteristically late. The bell rang as Mrs. Atkins walked somberly into the room – no James. Mrs. Atkins told us that she had some grave news to share with us before announcements and the pledge of allegiance. I remember feeling a sense of vertigo as Mrs. Atkins explained to the class that James had been hit by a truck and killed instantly. The first thing that came into my mind was “I was suppose to spend the night with James this weekend.” I had never had the chance to stay over at James’ home and was really looking forward to that night. Now that would never happen. Maybe it was this event which transformed me into what I am today. Perhaps this somewhat explains my impulsiveness at times – my desire to soak in as much as I can – while I can, because there are no guarantees that you will have tomorrow. Thanks, Karen, for reminding us to take note of what really matters, daily. I couldn’t agree more.
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