Psych Saturday: Time

I remember being eleven or twelve, counting down the days to summer vacation. Those eight to ten weeks felt like a joyful eternity, time to ride, fish, play, and be with friends and family.

I remember my early thirties, just after finishing grad school, when life stretched out like a boundless horizon. Time felt abundant then. There was room to dream, to build, to become whoever I wanted to be. I never questioned whether there would be enough time. It felt infinite.

And then I woke up this morning, on the first day of my 64th year on this great blue marble hurtling once again around the sun, and something felt different. I am acutely aware now that my time is limited. Limited time to learn and grow. Limited time to connect, share, and teach. Limited time to play and celebrate with friends and loved ones.

I am sure the cadence of time has not changed. The clock has not sped up. And yet, somehow, it feels different. It slips by more quickly. There seems to be less of it.

I could focus on the downside of that realization, on the shrinking runway. I could despair about how little time I may have left or judge myself for what I did not accomplish in the first 63 years. I could linger in regret over time wasted or piddled away on nonsense.
But this morning, I am drawn instead to gratitude.

Gratitude for the life I have lived, the work I have done, and the relationships that anchor me. Gratitude for each moment, each week, day, hour, and minute. Holding every sliver of time as something precious.

And I find myself wondering: What would it be like to live each day this way, to treat every moment as a gift and not a guarantee?

Will you join me? ~Paul

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