On Time

 

I wrote this post (but did not publish) back in January of 2017. After looking through my blog's drafts, I found this resonating with me so much in this season of my life. I think about time. A lot. Especially as we near bringing a new baby into our family. Sometimes I think 'time is running out.' Sometimes I think 'these are the best times of our lives.' Sometimes I wonder why time passes the way it does - why I perceive the passage of time to be different. So when I re-read this post and it still felt so relevant to me, I decided it was time to hit 'publish.' 

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The trouble is, you think you have time. 

I'm hoping to get back into regular blog posts, but I'm hesitant to make any promises. Though this - writing, sharing, offering up bits of my world and my mind - is a passion of mine, it's one that consumes time that I don't always have. I try to squeeze minutes in here and there - only when they don't compromise the time I am being a mom, which comes first - but those minutes seem few and far between these days. 

It's funny how time works. Not funny 'haha,' but funny weird. Super weird. Before becoming a mom, I never gave a second thought to the weeks and months that passed. Time is a social construct that, in many ways it seemed, served a singular purpose of measuring the distance from point A to point B. And, while there were no cosmic changes in the way we view time as a society since I've given birth, it does feel like giving birth to Noam has created a micro-cosmic shift within me. One that causes me to view time in a sometimes harsher, sometimes more loving light but always in a more profound way. 

Some days, I find myself mourning the passing of time. I feel anxious about whether I spent the time wisely enough. Did I appreciate the time I've been given enough? Have I done enough with the time? 

Other days, I find myself wishing the time to pass, wishing the minutes to escape me so I can get to point B more quickly. 

Some days, those two feelings I just mentioned happen back-to-back. Now that's a wild ride. 

I guess, what I'm trying to say is this: I never want to wake up and think that I've squandered the time I've had here on this plane. The quote "The trouble is, you think you have time" resonates so deeply with me. We think we have time to do more, later. But, as we know but don't often remember, that time is not guaranteed. Nothing is. 

How do you view and negotiate the passage of time? Share your tips - I'm all ears.