“Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a life?” -“Seasons of Life” from Rent.
The song from Rent is ringing in my ears; maybe because it is so applicable to this particular month. Think about it, we spend the whole year running around from place to place, event to event, person to person, all year long. Now in December with the biggest holidays upon us and the current year ending, the speed revs up even higher. This is the last chance so it better be good.
I think we like it that way.
I listen to women in particular complaining about all the activities in their lives, the amount of time spent in the car. I sometimes believe that this is how we measure our own value. We are so very busy, this makes us important somehow. It’s unfortunate because with all of this busyness, we our missing out on our own lives. When we look back on it, it will be a blur; it already is. We are so hectic that we forget to look where we are going and we don’t know where we have been.
If we can’t remember it, what’s the point?
I struggle with this to some degree. I want to go places, see new things, taste different foods, meet interesting people. I want to experience life and to be fully engaged. It’s hard for me to be selective, to temper my time. Is this a passion for life or a fear of missing out? The lesson that I have to learn over and over again is that there is only so much of me, and I can’t always be on. If I don’t choose wisely, the things that I do, there will be nothing left for enjoyment. I will be frantically rushing to get to the next thing, accomplish the next task.
I can only remind myself, over and over, to focus. To determine what is important and stick to that ideal. To allow time for quiet reading by the fire, as well as time to fully participate in something big exciting. To leave time for spur of the moment experiences which often turn out to be the best. To remember to build a memory.