Time

As I’ve grown older the issue of time has begun to play an ever-increasing role in my life. It isn’t hard to remember, not that long ago, those four years of high school seemed like an eternity. An even greater example was my last six months of active duty in the Navy. Wife and daughter at home and me thousand of miles away.

Now time seems like it is going at a quickened pace. Year changes can only be noticed when you put the wrong year on your checks each January. Even better when you hear a teen say that teacher is so old. He must be at least fifty. For me fifty is a fast approaching class reunion.

Then this morning I realized another issue of time. How I allow it to control me. Being a small nonprofit PDA’s are still out of budget range, but I clutch my Day-timer like a television preacher holds his Bible. I make notes on appointments, reports due, calls to make and other calls to return and a to-do list which superman himself would be hard-pressed to complete in the assigned time.

At the end of the day I start reviewing what I didn’t get done. Transferring missed items to the next day, only adding to tomorrow’s suffering. Then it begins to set in. Depression and that feeling of having failed not only myself, but all those people I was supposed to call or e-mail or the ultimate, a report which will be a day late.

A process begins. Negative feelings about myself build. Guilt, wow, there is a good one. An abundance of guilt washes over everything. The depression deepens and a low-grade anger begins. The finger-pointing, internal dialogue runs rampant and lame excuses start arriving. No, I say to myself I don’t get paid for this abuse. I can’t do it all. I need some help.

Looking around, in our case for a volunteer. Someone to take this intense pressure away. Then the realization hits. Everyone I know is in the same position. Managed by time, owned by the clock and a slave to the to-do list.

This morning something unusual happened. I was setting in my library writing in my journal when the realization struck me. Not only is my daily schedule of time limited so is the time I have left on earth to experience all the beauty and wonder life offers.

The obvious next question is why am I living this way. Running as fast as I can towards and end that is certain even though the when of the event is not. I think we all dream, maybe even expect there will come a day, somewhere in the future, when we can quit our slave-master relationship with time. A place where we are the master and not the slave to this insidious dilemma.

My best guess is never unless we do something about it. Mater of fact, in most of our lives it will be never end. Particularly if we as individual components of what we call society don’t begin to shift our values and priorities away from what others think of us. This includes who has the best car and biggest house, to living in peace with a comfortable spot inside ourselves without the constant time driven chatter. The old book comes to mind, “Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda”.

Take some time to think about time and family, children, friends and lovers. The only certainty in life is that time as we know it will end at a time uncertain. “Wooda-Coulda-Shoulda” makes a very sad epitaph.

I guess this is the time to take some time for me. My kitty just jumped onto my lap and seems intent on taking a little snooze. With my to-do list left uncompleted I think he has the answer. I’m going to lean back and take a little nap-time myself.