It always feels like time is running out. Running where? I can’t say. There is the work clock, the life clock, the weekend clock, the evening clock, the alarm clock that wakes me on the mornings when I’m not already out of bed thinking about the clocks. The big hand ticking slowly, but quickly, from one minute to the next on each of them.
And I’m clinging to the clocks. I’m clinging to the evening clock and the weekend clock and the life clock, and I’m trying to pull the time backward. I want to stop the clocks – freeze them so I can catch up. Dreams and goals are heavy loads to carry – and the bags of “to do’s” and chores don’t help either. How do I slow the clocks and stay alive?
I find myself at 12 and then 1 and 2, and before I know it, I’m at 9 – traveling ’round and ’round the clock’s face. Time is moving forward, but I’m stuck on the clocks. Jumping from one to the next and trying to keep up.
If I could have my way, I’d dump the alarm clock and the work clock and the evening clock and the weekend clock. I’d keep the life clock and I’d do everything I’d always dreamed of because I wouldn’t have all those other clocks to worry about. Every day would be focused on life and the joys it holds when it’s not competing with other times. On my life clock, I’d write a book at 1, catch a movie at 4, take a vacation to Europe at 8 – or maybe 6. The second would move with the beat of my heart, and the long hand wouldn’t feel so fast.
I’d paint my clock with a rainbow of colors. I’d liven it with music and art. I’d dab some adventures around the edges and plate it with love. I’d draw a smile on the face – a big smile with a hearty laugh. I’d dance and run around my clock. I’d give myself more time to be inspired. I’d have more time to live.
That’s the clock I want and need, the clock that allows me to live and breathe. The clock less concerned with the quantity of time that’s left to get something done and more focused on the quality of the seconds happening now. After all, what’s the point of all these clocks if the time you have never feels like your own and it never seems like enough?
– Written by Miss A on July 26, 2011