The other day – while I was noodling about – I took a little ride in a time machine and found this post from another life – a few years back* – when I had gainful employment for a few months and commuted up to London in the week to earn some pennies. I have been thinking a lot, lately, about how much time I spend without even thinking about it’s value – and it seems that this isn’t a new theme for me. Getting older perhaps?
The pic is me even further back when – banging my trusty, shamanic drum, in my father’s beautiful garden – in the tiniest pair of linen trousers bought in Thailand! Time has marched on apace since I was free to travel the world drumming and writing – *pauses for a little moment remembering those amazing strides…
So while I buy myself some more time in my humdrum life – by cravenly recycling an old post – please find some comfort here below. If nothing else – what were you doing five years ago or ten years? Are you still doing it? Is it still worth it?
Time is a strict mistress … written some time ago, we’re not sure exactly when…
For the last few weeks I have been schlepping up to London on the coach, bundling along the motorway, lost in between the pages of a posh mag wondering if at just 5ft 4in I could really get away with polka dot palazzo pants and clashy, mismatchy florals – or exhausting the tiny weeny battery capacity of my ‘not so blinking smart’ smart phone while I try to tweet funny, invariably missing and sounding carpy or cross.
I could use the time to write, but I don’t. I berate myself with thoughts of the uber talented Adele who by 21 has now eclipsed the achievments of Madgeonner. A feat I’ll bet, she didn’t manage by sitting at home craving chocolate and twiddling the knobs on her washing machine.
I treat myself unfairly by over committing to everything. I even over commit by buying too many books in the charity shop. Now I’ve got piles of them – random titles from a clutch of old Nick Hornby novels to a mustard yellow copy of Harold S. Kushner’s On Conquering Fear – sub titled ‘Living Boldly in an Uncertain World‘.
We’re justified and we’re ancient …
Seems to me when you get to a certain age, it’s easy to overschedule – just to feel justified. By the time you’ve finished your full beauty routine, coiffed your hair, smoothed on your ginger and twig body cream to avoid cellulumps and done a few early morning pilates stretches to wake up the system – it’s getting late and time’s a ticking past the optimum breakfast opportunity.
Now you have to skip the full ‘all over’ dowing session, and go straight to a type-skype with Australia. Friends are important. I’m always saying that. Why am I always saying that? Well because they are. Hmm they are, but the bugger of it is that good friendships, real genuine, heartfelt – ‘there for you always, you know that‘ friendships – well they take a lot of time. Don’t they?
Then there’s time for me, time to think, time for work, time for chores, time to pop out to get some food for himself, so he doesn’t starve while I am taking time to go up to London to spend more time working in a cupboard. Time for more stretching so my back doesn’t bloody give out on the bus up to London. Just enough time to write this before it’s time to go…
Time can be folded apparently – not in my house it can’t. No-one picks it up off the floor, let alone folds it up and puts it away. Time wouldn’t stand a chance at number 44. Nope. Time is in an untidy pile under the bed of a grumpy teen.
And even as I type this as fast as I can, so I won’t be late for the bus – that track from Ghost is playing out on the radio – Unchained Melody and time seems to be mocking me. Really Time? What are you telling me? That my face will wrinkle with or without jolly expensive creams or the tender touch of a facialist. That my back twinges are because I’m bloody old – so there! Oh lord as Mr Righteous hits those high notes I’m beginning to realise – I am Time’s pathetic plaything.
Time reflexes like a whore… Falls wanking to the floor…
So if I can’t beat Time – I plan to stop wasting it …
no more anti wrinkle anything | I accept
up when I’m awake, to bed when I’m sleepy | I accept
eat when I’m hungry | I accept
shop online always unless I feel like it | I accept
turn off my phone | I accept
drink coffee slowly with relish | I accept
I promise that the time I have saved sharing this post – I will use wisely and on reflection this morning I’d add a few more to my old list:
turn off the TV | I accept
hit the yoga mat often | I accept
*I have been blogging in some form or another for many years – a commercial writer would see this as repurposing. I re:read it and felt it had merit. x