“The days are long, but the years are short” – Gretchen Rubin author of the Happiness Project
There is no other sentiment that I find more true than this. We see it as we look back at our lives, periods of time that while we live through them seem to linger if we’re lucky or we trudge on through them only waiting for the end to finally reveal itself.
My life moves by in periods of sadness or happiness, because I’ve lived through more things than anyone should have to. College graduation, the birth of my children, finishing my first book; or through a lengthy, difficult pregnancy, the death of a child, post partum depression, a children with issues not of the norm. They can be difficult pits of despair or the highs that give us a reason to keep trying.
Time. It moves quickly and it’s slippery, like trying to hold water in our hands. We can’t contain it or control it. And the older we get the faster is seems to move. And for me at this moment, after the good and the bad, it moves so quickly I wish I could stop the rotation of the earth so that I can take a breath. Breathe and feel instead of constantly fighting for something.
I work almost everyday to write my books. It’s a long process, a difficult process for me. And as I realize that it’s been five years since I wrote The Day of First Sun, I should be proud and happy. Instead, time chases me. I’ve come no farther than those first days, finding myself at the beginning, no closer to my goals. And time, it teases me, suffocates me and reminds me that I can’t beat it, I can’t win against it. Time will always keep marching.
And I will keep marching, stepping to the rhythm of time and become one with it, not rub against it. I still have my goals and I still shoot for that end, to support myself as a published author. The goal hasn’t changed, it just feels more intense, more urgent.
Time will always move forward, but I won’t let it beat me.