A Moment’s Peace
I can’t pinpoint exactly when time began to feel blurry.
Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it?
Whether it was two or three winters ago when my grasp on it started to slip.
I didn’t think about it too much then. Not when the pieces of the life I envisioned for myself seemed to be so effortlessly falling into place.
I thought we had an agreement, time and I. I thought I had it licked.
But of course, time cannot be beaten, and It damn sure doesn’t care if your plans fall through.
Now, as it whips by ever faster, a quick, clear stream I cup my hands to catch even as it rushes relentlessly through my fingers, I’m terrified of wasting even a drop.
But I don’t know what that means, exactly.
I don’t know how much of it is mine to control, how much I’ll have in the end.
I know there are things that I would like to do, given the choice.
I know I’m hardly ancient, but I also know now, how fast time can move.
My life is blessed, no doubt.
Is it greedy to worry about wanting things like a partner and a little family to raise, when I’m so lucky already?
Would it be foolish to keep letting time tiptoe past without actively trying to cultivate those things?
Which is more wasteful, to spend my time trying to capture a life that might not even be in the cards for me, or to wait passively for the things I want until it’s too late for me to enjoy them?
These are the questions that chase each other around my mind, even as I celebrate friends’ new loves, their weddings, and pregnancies. Even as I celebrate my own accomplishments in other areas.
So it was nice, Sunday night, in the middle of running errands, doing chores and trying to get myself ready for another busy week to dash out the front door into a world transformed.
Even my mind quieted as I stopped on the porch to stare at the snow, coming down in magic slow motion, the way it does sometimes, lit up by the streetlights.
I stuck my tongue out to catch a lazy flake and it really did feel like time stopped.
At least for a moment