Time. We are ever conscious of it. Time to wake up. Time to eat. Time for bed. Time for myself. Time for my family. Time on our hands. Seems as though I am constantly clock watching–as I am right now, avoiding my commitment to get an evening run in. If I wait just long enough, it will be too dark to run (I have a treadmill, though, so there really are no excuses there).
Ironically, I’ve lost my watch. It is probably not ironic at all, but rather some unconscious effort on my part to separate myself from the beast that boldly dictates where I must be, from hour to hour, during a days time. I am ever conscious of being late, so I find myself, at times, literally running from meeting to meeting. (That should count against my daily run, shouldn’t it???)
Abruptly in the past week, three different friends or family members have been diagnosed with cancer. Terminal, prognoses all poor. I don’t think that any of them will be obsessed with being late for their next meeting. Their perspectives must be changing radically, discerning now what is important–really important–and what is not.
Time to live. That is all that matters, really.
I’m going to go take that run now.