Hello, time for another occasional blog, as I have time, and time is what it
is all about. Don't worry I am not going all Professor Brian Cox. I am no
physicist, or philosopher come to that, just an ordinary person with time to
reflect, for once.
So it is the last day of 2013, and time is passing ever quicker it
seems. I have no idea how many more years I have left here but have
resolved (no not resolved, decided) over the last few months to do those things
I have always wanted to do. Now you could say you should spend your whole life
doing that, but few of us have that luxury. The need to create an income
is the barrier to most doing what they want, only the lucky few can spend their
lives doing their heart's desire.
We spend our time filling it with 'things to do', lists, goals, priorities
being shuffled constantly, and we lose ourselves in all the 'stuff'. Then
come the dark nights, the inevitable Christmas rush, and all of a sudden it
stops. Holiday at home, for me, is the only time I have to to finally and
quietly be myself. But then ... what ... make more lists, fill the time
with things I 'must' do?
The alternative is just to sit, and be. Watch the clouds go by, the
crows cawing at the wind and rain. Is it a waste of time? Why do I feel guilty about it? Actually I don’t feel guilty, well not any
more. For once I am doing what I want to do, as I was able to do as a teenager
when I first had this sort of time to myself (and then no responsibilities). Watch the clouds, the trees silhouetted
against the sky, the different patterns of trees, and life.
So now onwards to one of the things I enjoy – reading:
I have just finished reading a book that was recommended to me, and it has
rather stopped me in my tracks. I saved
the last few chapters for the holiday as I had consumed the rest of it in
snatched moments before falling asleep or in between decorating. I wanted to absorb the last of it in my own
free and relaxed time. It is the
autobiography of a pilot, who survived the early(ish) to middle years of flying but whose
fate was always just out of reach of his own control, or so it seemed. Towards the very end he recounts how he flew
a plane which had an increasingly bad reputation for crashing, but somehow he
was able to fly it because of a particular combination of circumstances … in
the end, and in his innocence, he found the only way to fly the plane without
it crashing. So he navigated his life
and fate … (well in the end his fate was to live and be a very successful
author). At the end he looked at his
flying bag, the one that had accompanied him all those years through his flying
career, battered and stained. And he
loved it, that bag (yes love … for a bag!).
And flying, he loved that too, but he finally decided a particular fate had
come too close, and it was time to stop.
I am coming up to a similar decision, not to stop but to change, more
gradually I hope, but it is time for change, yes.
I am looking forward to seeing where my fate takes me.
