I enjoy the passage of time. I'm happy to be aging (for now). I wouldn't trade my fine lines for the self confidence I've gained. No way! I don't miss the teeny tiny baby phase with my children because they are growing into such beautiful little people and I love watching the mystery of their minds unfold each day. I appreciate the maturity of my
However, I sometimes wonder if my affection for time hinders my ability to live in the moment. When I catch myself truly taking in an experience and making that mental note to cherish it for all it's worth I feel like I've lived one hundred years in a single day. There has to be a way to make that happen all the time. Has to be.
Beyond regrets of rushing this time we have here on earth, higher consequences can be paid. I find that when my thinking shifts from what really matters to what could have been or what might be, the result is often neglect. My children deserve a present and peaceful mind, these early (needy) years will seem short one day. Annoyance with children seems to be rampant in our society, as if children asked to be born needing our guidance and time.
Earlier today, Jack sent me to time out. I did some thinking. Can you tell?
We're moving too fast. We're too focused on finance, power, and ourselves. We're less able to find enjoyment in things that take time - things like growing food, creating goods, raising children intimately. I had a recurring nightmare as a very young child where I was trapped in an empty room alone with my mother. She was intently shuffling through paperwork and as she focused, head down, the floor opened and a gigantic spider pulled me into it's web. She didn't notice. I used to feel it was reminiscent of her abandoning me (which it well may be) but I see it in another light now, one that reminds me what rejection feels like when you're small, when your whole world is held in the powerful palms of your parents.
Kids of course need time to learn and explore on their own, mine are mixing up a big batch of toy stew on the floor next to me - and would you believe it if I told you I'm simultaneously typing and singing "who let the dogs out" with them? But in a day and age where floortime (spending time on the floor doing activities with your kid) is considered an effective form of therapy we have to ask ourselves, are we doing enough? I have lots of things to look forward to but I think I'll look forward to the next ten minutes of this day. Not because I'll never have these ten minutes back but because I know we can make something wonderful of it, do something more with this time than witness it's passing by.