Friday, January 7, 2011
The other day, I had a revelation about why my life seems to speed ahead now. I live my life a month at a time, sometimes a quarter of a year at a time.
I had my calendar out trying to make plans for a writing workshop I've scheduled in February, set up an art class in March, a new gallery opening in April. There was a whole third of the year in my head.
As an accounting person, I have to do this at work too: January 31, February 28, March 15, April 15 and 30th...and so on through the year. I'm planning my job a quarter at a time.
I do this on a monthly basis too. I write down all the definites: writing class, yoga, birthdays, doctors' appointments. Then I look at the blank days and nights and fit in dinner with friends, trips to Greensboro to deal with my dad's estate, R&R weekends at the coast.
The time flies.
We all know how it was when we were young. We lived one day at a time, the anticipatory moments few and far between. Birthdays, vacations, Christmas. They took forever to get here.
So is it that my life is too busy? That I have to schedule too rigidly? That there aren't enough big things to look forward to, just little moments of happiness in the sea of obligations?
The time is precious now - I'm almost 60 years old - and I don't want to waste any of it. I want to think that I'm making good use of my days and weeks; I just wish they went by a little less quickly.
NOTE: The photograph is of one of my daughter's handmade datebooks. An excellent way to keep up with the year. You can find them at Rockpile Bindery