Time keeps on slipping away from me. I’m a day behind, and I’m not entirely sure what was so important yesterday that kept me from writing. This seems to happen a lot these days.
Time is such a fluid concept. It’s quite concrete when you talk about a clock, or when you have to be at work, or when you’re sitting in the dentist’s chair. It’s more obscure when you’re engaged in something fun or engaging. I find that I often run out of it. And since you can’t borrow a cup of minutes or a quart of hours from the neighbor – once it’s gone that’s it.
Sometime it passes in a blink. Sleeping is one of those times. So is reading a good book. It can go so fast that you look at a clock, and then it’s several hours later. Now is a concept of time in the past tense, since as soon as you are aware of it being "now" it’s already "then."
Other times it drags by, like a heavy sack you’re dragging around with you. When you want so desperately to sleep, and it just won’t come. When you’re waiting for something or someone and it or they don’t show up when expected. In those cases, "now" stretches out in an endless elastic string. Even then, though, when what you’re waiting for arrives, time snaps back and it’s like you never waited.
Time took longer when I was a kid. Summers flowed on and on, until we were so ready to go back to school that it seemed like September would never arrive. A school day was so much longer than six hours. Trips to the grocery store lasted a lifetime.
Now, not so much. Now I get up in the morning, go through my day trying (and failing) to be present in each moment, only to find that it’s 10PM and time to go to bed again. The night passes more quickly than the day, and it all starts over again. How to make each moment longer seems to be the theme of my life now. Just a short time ago my children were young, and we were living in the small rental on Chaucer Drive. Micah was a newborn with soft dark hair and big brown eyes. He still had soft dark hair and big brown eyes – they’re just several feet higher in the air.
How do you make life slow down so you can fully experience it? That seems to be my big question tonight.
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