“Time,” I said, a little pompously, sitting up straight, “Doesn’t really exist.” I was thinking out loud, but Sammy noted how I’d sat up as though it were something grand and important. She always loves to listen to my theories: rolling away so she can hear better, raising a keenly arched eyebrow to show her intrigue, or just carrying on making the tea in the other room, only stopping to contribute a ‘Yes dear’ or other helpful interjection. She didn’t ask what I meant.
It’s like this. We all get twenty four hours a day. The King, the postman, Mary Berry, and that madman who launched a car into space - all of us, rich, poor, scrunching letters through the door - just twenty four hours, lived one second per second. We all have time.
And if we all have time, then also none of us don’t have time. All we have is choices. So there’s no such thing as time; there are only priorities.
In other words, “I don’t have time” always only ever means, “I’ve chosen something else.” It’s harsh, I know but time - having time, spending time, wasting time - is just a matter of choices.
I find this difficult. I didn’t talk to Sammy about why, only that figuring out what’s important is very hard - and all conflict, great and small, is the result of people differing about what really matters. That’s what I find difficult - lots of things matter! Some of the things I thought mattered don’t matter even half as much as the things I didn’t think matter, and it turns out they actually do! So I flow with the process - switching and changing my mind. Prioritising is like sailing a terrible ocean sometimes.
Anyway. That was today’s grand thought. I’ve chosen to write it out, having bolted upright with the idea and pontificating to my wife. She’s chosen to make breakfast, which, I ought to help with, instead of going on about things that perhaps matter a great deal less.
No comments:
Post a Comment