I need to catch my breath!
I have absolutely no idea where today has gone. Equally, I have no idea where yesterday went. Nor do I have an idea where the recent January days disappeared to. Come to think of it, 2010 passed by in such a whiz it didn’t feel like a year at all. Having said that, it only seems like a couple of weeks since we were celebrating the Millennium – that was eleven years ago. And the seventies, well, they were last month according to the way I am thinking at present.
Blimey. Decades have passed by all within the blink of an eye.
The odd thing is, is that at the time, time doesn’t seem to be moving. Moving it is, but at it’s own special rate, not the rate at which I would like it to go.
I was counting down the seconds on the microwave earlier, and found myself ahead of time. I am sure that the seconds on the microwave are longer than the normal seconds in the rest of time, but if not, I was definitely beating the clock. When I realised I was ahead, I had to stop my own clock, and wait for the microwave to catch up. And those few seconds – I was more than one second ahead – seemed like an eternity.
So, that causes me to ask the question… if decades have just passed in the blink of an eye, how come time stood still between those microwave seconds?
Another thought has struck me.
I am not using time to the best of my advantage. If it is running away with me, as the previous decades have done, I haven’t really used all of those seconds where time stood still for the best of my experience. I should use them for my creative pursuits. New ideas, things to do, places to go, people who I would like to meet, and what I should, could and need to do to meet them. It only takes a split second – not even a full second – for a flash of inspiration to spark and hit home.
Waiting for the microwave gave me more time. How many people say they could do with more time? I say it over and over again, when in reality, I have all the time in my world. The microwave taught me that. Thanks, microwave.
Maybe the kettle was trying to tell me something similar.
And the red traffic lights; the queues in the supermarket; the times that I can’t get to sleep; the seconds waiting for the computer to power up; even the time spent on hold on the telephone with some awful tinny hold music – they are all highlighting just how much time I have now.
Looking back over the past few decades, those seconds have always been there. The clock is constantly stopping and starting, but I am more often than not oblivious to that fact as I am looking elsewhere.
The second I pay attention to my time is the moment my life can begin again. I think that is most definitely worth stopping the clock for, if only for a second or two.
(Originally posted 23rd January 2011)