Tonight as I sit here writing a letter, I am shocked to write a date that signals the end of January, and I realized what the difference is.
As an adult, I have stopped looking forward with anticipation. My days are filled with a never ending list of tasks and projects that leave me anxious and stressed. My birthday has become just another day that comes and goes. And the holidays are generally filled with dread because I never know which side of the emotional river my feelings will flow. So it's no wonder time seems to be flying by!
The solution is simple: I need to start looking forward to the events of my life! But herein lies the problem. . . .because the older I get, the more I mark time by what has already passed, and I am ever aware that my "days are numbered," which means there are fewer and fewer events to anticipate. And I'm sure that living with cancer has thrown its own little monkey wrenches into the time mix. So how can I look forward with excitement and anticipation when I feel like I am digging my heels into the sand to keep myself from being pulled out to sea by the rip tide of time that has wrapped itself around my life?
Doors close. Windows shut. Possibilities become unfulfilled dreams neatly tucked away into a hope chest that now serves as a sarcophagus of memories and regrets of a life already lived or passing me by. No wonder it feels like time goes by faster and faster every year, yet how can I slow it down? How can I seize each day with the same reckless abandon I did when I was young and invicible against the world when carpe diem feels dry and lifeless upon my tongue?