The Write Thing

Interesting invention, this thing called time. While we eat, work, think, watch TV, read, or get engaged in the most menial tasks, the towering force of a capriciously measured non-entity whose passage is mostly recorded in physical signs (whether we call them wrinkles, memory lapses or simply aging) imposes itself upon us, and rules. Time, the intangible frame that shapes a life, passes by. There will be those who adhere to the carpe diem motto, and others that simply think they will catch up with their own hourly losses later, when they have time…ah! Utopia itself. Unexpectedly, time runs out. However, as we like to think we dominate, we say we run out of it.

I am not the dominant type, regardless of whether we are dealing with time or with people. I believe in flowing, in listening, observing and, if possible, connecting. Probably that is the task I devote myself to as time passes. There is no avoiding it, so we can only aim to make the most of whatever there is of it. These days, I have been thinking about time a lot. I have missed someone, but this has been a quiet feeling. I have saved time to spend with someone, and that has been a novelty, a change for the best from my workaholic days. I have spent time with someone, only to let the seconds dance around us as if they never existed in the first place. I have loved, and my heart has ticked in tune with each second of the wait until I would see her again. Maybe, after all, I have only done one simple thing…live.