Borrowed Time

Caught up in my daily chores, I can't help but feel like I'm continually asking "time" for favors. Timing my tasks in between life's demands and anticipations. I attempt to fit in all of the day's (my) goals within a certain time period. It occurred to me that the concept of "borrowed time" could easily be applied to how I approach daily life.

I was sweeping the crumbs under the table while planning to accomplish just a few more things before my youngest squeals and demands my attention. Rushing to get just a few more things done before my boys ask when dinner is ready. And finishing it all before my husband comes home and our busy evening begins. All I wanted was to complete what I had set out to do. Yet, all the while I was so preoccupied that at any moment something or someone was going to tell me suddenly to "STOP". Then, I'd have to reluctantly hand over my keys and pull over.

I compare those too common of moments to dreams in which I run....but very slowly. I'm having to get somewhere and I'm in a hurry but I'm in slow motion, dragging physically, but mentally I'm speeding.

I acknowledge that I can't expect for time to stop, but that doesn't prevent me from trying to beat it. Somehow I feel indebted to time, humbled by it's power. Whatever time I'm "given" seems to be unappreciated for I'm in a hurry to take advantage. Like a library book, I tend to be preoccupied with how long it's lended to me and lose the opportunity to relish the ownership. Asking time to lend me some more isn't realistic but I manage to justify my attempt to conquer it.

Despite whatever I accomplish, many moments are overlooked. I tend to be caught up in determination to finish something to notice. No matter how many completed projects and shiny floors, I need to slow down and re-prioritize my continuing struggle. To make a difference, I must approach the task at hand as if I'm accomplishing the objective in good time not borrowed time.

Mounting anger

We've all "lost it" at one time or another. Patience seems to swell and then bursts at a heightened state. I've watched people often possess this unfailing determination to keep their anger under control. And yet there are others who blow up at the slightest build up. So, where do I fit in? Believe me this is one subject I've analyzed time and time again about myself. Having been (and who I'd like to describe myself as being now) a very mild mannered person whom had been trodded on many of occasions. I've become convinced I have a lot of tolerance but not a lot of patience. Unfortunately, I tend to let things slide for awhile and reveal my disappovement when most people's defenses are down. Then BOOM I take all by surprise sometimes even myself! I guess it's my own way of standing up for who I used to be. How do we distinguish what we can justify and catagorize as regret?

Patience and tolerance.....What's the difference? Maybe there is no significant difference. I'd like to think that tolerance is easier to practice. Tolerating your environment, and people's actions. But, patience seems to require more of a personal approach. Risking emotions and playing the odds of an un-anticipated possiblity of a disappointment. I fear for myself that more things in my life will require more patience than tolerance. For if we apply patience and wait - things may work out, people come to their senses, the bad times pass...

However, I'd like to think that mounting anger results in the drive of a powerful act. A building mountain that forms into a volcano. And if we manage it well and use it in a controlled manner things get done. Points get across. And we no longer carry that growing fire that eats us up inside.

And then there are those (myself included) that lose it, hair frizzled, thier spit flying, eyes dialated, throwing in some unnecessary language, and end up sputtering until thier lips are dry. But, hey at least they don't have to carry a hot head anymore and whoever made them upset will think twice NEXT time. Justifiable? Regrets? We usually don't find out until after the explosion.

The Domino Effect

Have you ever noticed there are waves of bad luck? Perhaps a passing trend of bad news or carma that occasionally cross your path? Recently, I've had news of deaths, suicides, and broken spirits. Diagnosis of cancer, loss of loved ones, and people who end thier dilemas by taking their lives.

I've often wondered if one sole mishap could possibly affect another and a "domino effect" occurs by equally spreading momentum to the next subject in the way. Isn't life odd? How, without thinking, we are affected by our environment. The sounds, the visions, our feelings in which we emerse ourselves in daily can either inspire, motivate, disillusion, innfluence us without us being aware. We're oblivious to rationale and common sense. It's almost like we surrender to life's toll.

One bad instance when one falls, taking down another with it's energy. Pulling, weighting down the next in line. How do we avoid the inevitable? Perhaps we need to step out of line. Possibly taking a couple steps back to break the chain. Or maybe we need to consider that we were in the wrong line to begin with.

"Blow wind blow"

How long can the wind blow!? I've noticed that it is getting to me....physically, mentally...I grit my teeth before going outside, wincing to keep the annoying air particles from getting in my eyes. My feet have been slammed twice by the car door while putting the kids in the car. Outdoor tasks have been put off and neglected because of the nuisance. I might as well be snowed in. I find my shoulders creeping up to my ears because the wind constantly raps and pushes against the windows. My neck is tight. My hair and all it's dignity blows away the instant the outdoors and I meet. Instead of savoring the quiet evenings, I'm left with irritation and am wound uplike a top. I'm tired. I lay at night with my eyes fully open and my ears continually being startled with noises and howls. Anything that was in somewhat order is in full disarray outside. The trash cans and garbage that once occupied them, the tumbleweeds, chairs uplifted, tables moved, porch rockers walking. The dogs feel it too; they pause a little too long before plunging out the door. I've been fighting an endless battle the last few days. Enough already. I guess everyone experiences the need to blow once in awhile.

"Move over, I'm driving."

Why is it that it's harder to drive straight? Weaving in and out of the line seems to require more energy and action. I guess if you're all dooped up no thought is needed and you're not really caring about lines - wherever or whoever draws them.

So, I continue to draw and follow my own lines ignoring those who criticize how straight they are. I know too many who went astray, went off the road, and messed up, to give up my drawing chalk.

Yet I can't help but be resentful for always being on the straight and narrow. I'm constantly trying to do what's right, play the "responsible" role and set limitations while avoiding criticizing those who demand a different direction.

Have I missed out on much? I'd hate to think that I missed out on things that I could've benefited from because I was so preoccupied with being unselfish, responsible, or unspontaneous. I've still witnessed some good scenery. You get a great view in the front. It's amazing what you pick up and learn when you look and observe. It's also intimidating to be in the back seat not knowing where you're going. I'm not necessarily recommending others to stay on the map but just to make their own path rather than follow someone or something that could lead them away to get lost. It's not fun being lost....I've been there.

Maybe I wouldn't have got this far if I hadn't balanced, with my arms out, looking straight ahead, following some line that while my eyes were closed I managed to scribble on the ground. I'd like to think that I have saved myself from more bruises or my teeth being knocked out by following my own mediocre standards.

Whether I fight against or go along with people's standards for me I'll continue to drive my own car, set my own pace, continue down my own path.

Hello tomorrow

I've recently visited a nursing home and had the opportunity to spread good cheer. This was the second year I took my son along with other piano players to play for the residents. I was reminded yet again of how "being old" hinders the best of us. It's hard to keep your dignity when you're entirely reliant upon who is pushing your chair or who literally puts the food in your mouth. There were a greater number of ladies and gentleman who were suffering from dementia than what I remember from the previous year. The sudden outbursts and blank stares seemed to continually startle me throughout the hour we were there. With my year old daughter on my lap I found myself almost wanting to hide behind her. I surprised myself at how uncomfortable I felt. Maybe it was because I was aware of my empathy and understanding I had for the ones who looked at me kindly. Like what I had for the man who sat in his chair and said very little yet he genuinely got a kick out of waving back and forth to my daughter. I wondered if he had grandchildren and who Cora reminded him of. I wondered if the lady who sat beside him, who constantly muttered uncontrollably, bothered him. I knew all the while all of these people owned some kind of Christmas memory or at least once did. Maybe the men traditionally went out to get the tree for his wife every year. Or maybe the women made special cookies to give as presents. But, they've had to give up little by little, year by year even the simple independence that we all so frivalously take for granted. Some may have lost the memories completely. Maybe this form of loss isn't so bad, if you can't compare what you had to what you have no longer.

The atmosphere was numbing, almost funeral like. Many were frozen, many expressionless. I found myself in a rush to leave, yet embarrased that I didn't take more time to visit. I left depressed and upset that many didn't have families who were there sitting with them. And bothered that most of us inevitably will become dependant on another. Hopefully dependant on someone who loves us unconditionally. It makes me feel humble to my state and mind now and awakens me to what I may not have tomorrow. All of these people were here where I stand not that long ago. Somehow they have been lost in the shuffle of time, tucked back into the shadows. They are commonly overlooked because they aren't underfoot nor within our daily sight. They're abandoned, unappreciated and forgotten that they once were like you and me.

Welcome the Day

Lately, things haven't been going right. Facing battles left and right gets old. But, really old when you keep losing. But, what else can one do? Giving up is not an option and staying sour never gets you anywhere. I guess welcoming the day,everyday, is the only thing I can do. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a more welcoming one.