I can't recall if I've already written a post about this topic, or just thought about it, but, my life seems to be all about time, or the lack thereof.
When did life get so crowded out by stuff, that I lost track of time, or apparently lost the ability to keep track of it? As I sit this morning and write, it's hard to ignore the clutter on the couch (left over from my trip to Boston a week ago!) or the clutter on the dining room table (more stuff related to my job) or the pile of laundry that never seems to diminish. I'm pulled in a million different directions, and all points lead to a time involvement, and there isn't enough time to get even a fraction of it all done. I find myself tired as soon as I wake up, burdened by the mental to do list that never goes away.
I need time to exercise, usually last on that "to do" list, when it should be first. But most days I fall into bed, later than I intended, with another feeble promise to myself that tomorrow I will make time for exercise. As the date looms closer for knee surgery (that I'm dreading more than I imagined I would) I know that the success of my recovery depends on how much strength I am able to build to support my knee. This takes time on the stationary bike, that I usually reward with a good book to read. But, I fell while in Boston, and my knees hurt when I ride the bike! A good excuse, and usually any excuse is good enough, but this time, I need to go boldly where I fear to pedal, and basically just do it! But, it takes time.
The passage of time . . . can be a good thing. I once thought about the title of today's post as a title for a book I think I'll write someday, about the hours, days, weeks, and eventually the years after my son's unexpected death. The incomprehensible, gut wrenching grief that at one time I thought I'd never be able to live through, that I thought would never give me a moment's peace, that I thought would leave me a shell of my former self . . . time does heal. Although I'm irreversibly changed, time spent with family, friends, and therapist does ease the wound, even if it never erases it.
As I write this morning, I feel crunched by time. Although it's only 8:30, it feels like the morning is half over, and I have a sudden urge to drop this laptop and head for the bike. I think, for once, I'm going to heed the calling, as maybe part of the reason time thwarts me so much, is that I don't listen to the call. Perhaps, it is the "putting off" until later that causes the frustration with unfinished business.
I don't know for sure . . . time will tell. :)