To Many Hands On My Time

I’m sitting here with an atrocious stomach flu. Not able to do much. Not really in the mood to write, my head being clouded with dizzying thoughts and voracious amounts of Thera-Flu. But, I did manage to squeak out a couple of thoughts spurned by my last entry.

Not wanting to talk of politics or current events right now, I decided just to write in a bit of stream-of-consciousness, so forgive my ramblings. I don’t believe a blog needs to be about current events all the time. My colleagues here are doing a wonderful job of keeping abreast of all that other stuff, so I figured I’d just write about something a bit different, if not just to keep me from feeling miserable for just a few minutes.

In my last article, I wrote a little something about death, and how the passing of loved ones has affected me. It was not a dissertation on the afterlife, nor one which was meant to be self-indulging, just something I thought I would write about that many, if not all of us, had to confront in one manner or another.

In the comments section, most of which were positive and each explained within the spirit of the column, one commenter in particular, “LoadTheMule”, sought to condemn me for writing what I did:

“To what earthly purpose–other than the monumentally inappropriate baring of your own self-serving soul–did you write this? My god, what incredible hubris.”

A strange response, I thought, to a column which was written with the sole purpose of just sharing one’s view point on how death affects the living people who have to deal with a dying loved one.

While I don’t believe Mr. Mule got the gist of the column (or just refused to accept the premise), he did get me thinking a bit about life in general, and how we view it from our own little perches.

“When we are young, wondering the face of the Earth, wondering what our dreams might be worth, learning that we’re only immortal, for a limited time” (A quote from a great Rush song). It says alot. Things we pursued when we were younger, noticing the smallest things, being captivated by them, playing, games with friends, a first kiss, fights with parents. So eager to grow older as quickly as we possibly could.

If we only knew.

It is true, in a cosmic sense, we are here but for a short time, passing through, blessed to be able to feel every emotion possible, including the fear and ultimate reality of death, where we pass on to a place of unimaginable peace. Is life a test? I don’t think so. I think it is more of a blessing. Harder for some, where others just roll on by without any real trials. It is what we make of it, free to choose which actions we may take. Some waste it, some do nothing but evil, some do great good, and some, like most of us, act with a combination of both. But it is special, living on this Earth with other people, however short the time may be.

Time seems to go too fast as we get older. Time doesn’t change though, we do. Our habits, our responsibilities, our energies are focused into different avenues. Too many hands trying to grab a piece of us and our time.

When I feel as though time is slipping by with no purpose other than just to exist, I sometimes try to think of other times in my life. What would I be doing right now if I were 10 years old. How I felt, how I viewed the world. And, I think, that helps a little to slow things down a bit. Shows just how long ago those times were, and puts the passage of time into a bit of perspective.

I made a futile attempt at keeping a journal when I was 17. I wrote a whopping week’s worth of notes. Everything I could think of, all I was doing, who I was with, how I felt, I penned into that notebook. Every so often I’ll pull it out to read it, get a smile out of it. But the most important thing it does for me is it almost makes time stop. Reading those 10 or so pages worth of memories, recounting a brief moment of my existence, always amazes me. I can, in my mind, be transported back to those exact moments. They’re not some fleeting memories lost forever in my mind, but vivid, happy memories of a time long since vanished.

I wish I wrote more.

“Stop and smell the roses”. A timeless cliché. It’s true though, for someday you wont be able to, and you’ll wonder why you didn’t take the time do such a simple things.

Well, time for some more Thera-Flu. Thanks for the inspiration, Mule. Hope you all have a great day!

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