The Time You Have
A common theme this week amongst the conversations I’ve been having is a general discontent over feeling like one needs more.
More money, more freedom, more assets, more things.
And as someone in recovery, I’m all too familiar with the feeling of needing more. More and more and yet the itch is never quite satisfactorily scratched. More and more and the feeling is still empty. More and more and I’m no happier - rather - the exact opposite.
The thing I’ve noticed in all these conversations is, the “more” they’re speaking of isn’t really what they thought it was. Upon further discussion, what all of these individuals truly were speaking of, was more time. More time to do what made them truly fulfilled. More time to be with people who truly knew them, saw them, cared about them. More time away from work, a job they knew zapped their energy so that when they did have time to do the things they loved, they were barely there. More time to live the life that remained a distant dream for “later,” because now "wasn’t the right time."
And in living this life of “time scarcity,” the only way to fill the feeling of lack was to acquire more things, seek more “milestones” to reach, until all the physical space and outward accolades had been seemingly filled. And sure, there’d be a brief moment of satisfaction, of glory, of achievement. And yet, why had the haunting, uneasy feeling come back, again?
Time is the only thing we can’t buy back. It is the one thing people who are dying wished they had more of. What they wouldn’t give for it. And for those of us who still have it, what gives us the audacity to say “later”?
If what we are and what we have now is not enough, what makes us think that will change later?
The most precious, generous gift you can give to anyone, is your time. You are the only one who can decide how much you give to yourself, and how much you’re willing to take from yourself. You cannot borrow it from the past, or the future. The things that we accumulate are meaningless without time to enjoy them, share them. The only guarantee you have is the breath you’re breathing now. Not even the next one. How much are you enjoying this breath? How much are you enjoying the time you still have left? What will you do, with the time you have, right now?
