But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them – Jim Croce
When I was younger I didn't think about time. There was just waking up and playing or waking up and doing, but I never really thought about the future except to know two things; I wanted to travel and I wanted to write.
When you're young time is infinite, tomorrow will always come, there's always time. And one day when you wake up you realize that time has gone, slipped through my fingers and I can't get it back and for me it leads to panic. I'm feeling the pressure now to accomplish something, to honor the dreams of my seven-year old self, the one when I decided that I wanted to write for a living.
There's only two things I regret in my life, one of them is that I didn't use all of that time before having children to practice writing. To learn how to construct a story and how to edit. I wrote one children's story in all that time and maybe started a chapter or two but nothing much came from any of it.
I find myself entering my 46th year and I wonder what I used to do when I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted, with no real responsibilities, except work. What did I do when I could travel any time of the year, what did I do when I could sleep in, read a book or write a novel. Did I take advantage of time as it was laid out in front of me?
I'm having a mid-life crisis. Not in that joking haha kinda way. Because the older I get the faster time moves as if sand is running through an hourglass. I panic and I get scared that I've wasted that time and I won't accomplish what I want. I wonder if I'm gonna drop just before the finish line.
It's so much pressure on myself maybe unrealistically to achieve something more than just the norm. Maybe I can successfully race against time and win. Or maybe I'll relearn how to love the writing so the journey becomes the thing.