It’s so late! I’m usually up earlier so I can get a good hour in with my writing. But it was worth it this time – a night in with the girls and a good movie and good food.
Time. It’s becoming so important to me! There never seems to be enough of it – not at work, not in my day, not in my writing, not for my dogs, my friends, my family, my garden. And then I sleep. And there is never enough time for that either.
You, my darling Reader, have followed me through a journey that began in a time of loss – loss of my hair, loss of my direction, loss of faith. It has taken us through new territory and into new appreciation for old territories, into the birth of new dreams and the discarding of old desires. Yes, You have shadowed the new pep in my step, new freedom, new friendships, new learning experiences and adventures.
Do You know the life change our relationship has wrought? I wake up an hour earlier every day to spend time chasing my thoughts with my pen. This hour is the most exciting most fulfilling allotment of time in my day. I go to work and lead my team to answer the demands of our job and the needs of our clients. I break sometimes for a ten minute salad, a quick response on twitter or Facebook via blackberry, and on days of luxury an hour of fresh air. My personal trainer bullies the fat cells off my body for a half hour some days at two o’clock and I attempt to have a life after work. Writing class, band practice, community service – but it all begins in that one hour in the morning where I pray and then I write.
But there is more. There is that long-suffering, growing dream that first bubbled up as I learned my alphabet and read my first golden book. It was ignored through the quest for good grades through high school. It was forced into dormancy through college and law school. It was set aside for career growth and career change and financial goals. But when I got to the end of each of these challenges it was there waiting. The book that is begging to be written.
It is growing. Man oh man it is growing. Seeded by this morning hour with You and fertilized by the night-time writing class, homework and new literary friendships. It is a rain cloud that promises a Tropical Storm whenever the first drop falls.
And then there is no time.
I am coming up to my hundredth post in less than two weeks. This is the deadline I have set myself to solve this time puzzle. What will have to give? What is going to be Chopped food-network style? What will I be willing to sacrifice for the pursuit of my dream?
An idealist will say it should be worth every cost. The family of Steve Jobs and others like him might very well disagree. I have less than fourteen days to come up with my answer. And I invite you to contribute.
Every person over 25 will remember the first computer they ever saw. It may have filled a room or a corner of a room. The youth of the era will remember the evolution of the games from Pong and Snake to Worms and now Angry Birds. You will remember being tickled pink the first time you solved a computer version of solitaire and watched the cards flow in a fountain… a very, very slow fountain. Some will remember the black screen (or even the blue one!) of DOS. Or perhaps you will reember the whole briefcase that was the first mobile phone, the rumours of cancer, and the snowball effect of technology growing and growing and catapulting us through the past three decades.
Despite getting an earlier start, technology in the past two decades has hurtled forward from the “computer room” and the brick phone that could only make calls within its coverage area to the ability to open the garage door, start your car, order coffee and complete the document you will need for the 8 am meeting on the same device and in the space of five minutes.
Today we pause to honour a man. He was someone who made a significant contribution to where we are today and was part of the step by step evolution of technology. Isn’t it a cute coincidence that a man who created a Leviathan of a company employing millions and kicked life into every single industry throughout the world employing billions and billions of people would be named Jobs? The world watched in shock as he stepped down from the driver seat a mere six weeks ago. Yes, even giants get sick.
When the news of his passing came to my phone by email (regrettably not an iPhone) my first thoughts were did he really give himself enough time? Did his wife have enough of him in those six weeks to sustain her? Did his loved ones build memories in those last few days? Did he, Steve, have enough time to himself to come to terms with his future?
Today in my humble little orchid corner with my coffee cup in hand I thank God for my blessings. My family is intact, my food and shelter provided for, and I have at least the illusion of the promise of time. Time to see my tomatoes grow, to watch my parents mellow into their golden years and my siblings fall in love and prosper, to crowd around plates of tajaditas with the Bushlings clan and to write thoughts and stories, memories and wisdoms, and to touch hearts and lives.
What will you do with your Time?