I woke up this morning and it was Monday. Now a few minutes later it is Friday.
Life is lived at warp speed whether you want it to or not.
There are no brakes.
I remember as a kid how I had no idea how I was going to survive until I was an adult. I think I was born with more adult traits than kid traits. Because I love, can’t stress love enough here, the adult life more than the kid life. But now that I’m an adult I wish I had the time I had as a kid. Though I don’t want to go back to being a kid. I enjoyed my kids being kids, and my grandkids being kids, more than I loved being a kid. Not to say I didn’t have childhood fun. I did. But it was like I was just humoring life until I became an adult. Childhood, as a result, seemed to drag on a bit too long.
Then I turned 18.
And someone turned the clock on to warp speed.
I try real hard not to say “I wish it was Friday” or “I wish this day was over”. Because I don’t want to wish my time, or my life, away. Some days do seem to drag on foreeeeeeeeever. And why is it whenever that happens it’s always at work? Why is it the day never seems to last foreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeever when I am on a bike ride and want to ride hundreds of miles? So that I have plenty of time to accomplish this, enjoy it and make it last. When my days do drag on forever at work I try to remind myself to wait a minute or two and it will be next week already. Often when I am preparing to leave on Fridays I sit at my desk for a second, get the calendar turned to the next week, get the to do list ready and sit there and look at it knowing full well in seconds I will be sitting there again and it will be Monday morning.
Sure enough, come Monday morning I sit at my desk and look at the calendar and the to do list, turn on the computer and think “I was just here”.
I know this is a strong sign that life is good. I love my moments. My days. My weeks. I try to fill the day with things that make me happy, helpful, things that make me ponder, laugh, argue and keep busy. I’ve seen enough people in the last few years who have gone home, sat in a chair, and instead of living every day, they wait out every day. It’s hard to watch. It’s not an infirmity, injury or illness. It’s a wish to no longer be here. As a result, every minute to them is an eternity.
Though I firmly believe in the glory of life after here I as firmly believe the gift of being here is something I don’t want to rush through and/or throw away. I don’t necessarily want it to slow down. I want it to last. And I want to be present in it.
This is just something I take notice of.
My life is being spent.
Well spent I hope.
One well lived moment at a time.