Growing up, I was always extremely wary of time and deadlines. I would drag my mother to my dance class half an hour or sometimes even 45 minutes early every lesson. Becoming so hysterical if we didn’t leave the house at the time I had decided was appropriate, that my poor mother eventually would just drop me off whenever I wanted because it was easier than trying to convince me I had enough time.
Appointments or playdates became a point of anxiety, trying to figure out what time we would need to leave home or wherever we were, to get there at the right time. I hated buses and refused to go on one for a year when I was thirteen because the thought that I might miss it, inspired heart clenching panic. When I started going to highschool I would run from class to class at the bell, unlike the other kids who dawdled. The idea of arriving late to class made me feel puke worthy. Needless to say, I lead a very anxiously efficient life.
I guess that feeling has followed me into my young adulthood. Constantly plagued by the intimidating shadow of inevitability, I think this is something a lot more of us suffer from, than we’d care to admit. Maybe not in the same way that this feeling followed me, I think we are all haunted by the sense that we are running out of time.
Never have I been especially seduced by the adolescent illusion of immortality. Painfully aware of my own very fragile existence, I’ve fallen into the bad habit of believing my own lie, that I don’t have enough time.
Yesterday, it was a bad day for good habits and I spent most of the day in a torrent of neurotic productivity, with intermissions of deep listlessness. The day felt disjointed and panicked.
It wasn’t until that evening, when my wonderful partner forced me out the door and metaphorically out of my own head for a walk, could I start to unwind. As I walked, I started to talk, and as I started to talk I could finally start to breathe again.
My legacy is very important to me. I know I will die. And I want to make sure that the story I leave behind is one of bravery, kindness and hard work. But I am also working on the idea, one that I would recommend to everyone, that I have enough time.
Because when you start to believe you have enough time, you enjoy the time you have and everything starts to slow down.