Sometimes I think too much. It bugs me when I catch myself in a rare quiet moment when I am not doing something that I would consider productive and the mental fireworks begin. Given my spiritual background, this regular occurrence is even more… shall we say, entertaining.
Why didn’t you bring that book you wanted to review? Why aren’t you writing Monday’s blog post? Didn’t you say you would respond to her email last week? Why didn’t you water those tomatoes last night?
Even when my better half is sick for a few days and I am a better nurse than Florence Nightingale, I feel lazy, worthless and annoyed with myself for not doing more with my time. The inevitable internal response is that I am a shining example of the very worst of the Seven Deadly Sins. I am sloth.
Am I wasting time? Is it justifiable? Am I just thinking too much? Does it matter?
I am far from the success that I had always intended to be when I turn 40 next month. Sure, I could do as I have in the past and rest on the knowledge that I realized more success in my twenties than most people do in an entire lifetime, but that no longer brings with it the comfort it once did. I feel like the last decade of my life has been a near-total waste and that kettle of knowledge brewing on the back burner of my mind keeps me constantly aware that there is never enough time. The worst part of the never ending dialogue in my mind is that the more time I waste the less I have.
There will never be enough time to write that novel you have wanted to write since you were 16. There will never be enough time to make your garden look like something out of Southern Living. There will never be enough time to spend with your loved ones.
There is never enough time.
Only there is. There are twenty-four hours in every day for every one of us, no matter what. The number of hours in a day does not magically change based on who we are or our perceived level of importance. There is enough time for two hours of reality television and a microwave meal at the end of the day, or maybe there is enough time for a home cooked meal and a bedtime story.
There is enough time for checking Facebook two or three times an hour and texting all day, or maybe you really could carve out 45 minutes a day to try and make that novel come to life. There is enough time to tell someone you love them, and more important, there is enough time to show them.
There is enough time, and the quicker you stop complaining about how little you have, the quicker you can get busy finding it.
I am not a lazy person by nature, nor is there much time that goes by without me doing something that I would consider to be productive. The last thing I want anyone to take away from this is that I am advocating the Go! Go! Go! lifestyle that is driving so many of us to early graves. No one is telling you to spend more of your day working, just spend less of your day making excuses.
If there is something you want to do, some dream you have always had, then find a way to set aside a tiny portion of your day to work toward that goal. Thirty minutes in the morning to meditate. Fifteen minutes in the afternoon to decompress after your workday. An hour at night with the family. None of those are unrealistic and no matter how crazy your schedule, they are attainable.
For my part, I am making a conscious effort to make sure that the time I spend with friends and loved ones is of the best quality. I won’t split that time with personal email, texts or social media because I can do those things when I am alone. Facebook is fun, it’s a great tool for my work, but it is not important enough to take away from time spent with those I love.
Until “I’ve always wanted to…” and “sometime we should…” become “I’m so glad we…”, there will never be enough time.
There is never enough time and there never will be, until you make time a priority.