It occurred to me recently that my mother was 12 years older than I am now, when she died. My dad, 16 years older. Yikes. Do I only have 12 years left? 12 months? 12 days? ...12 minutes?
My health is good; I think I can rule out the 12 minutes scenario with a little certainty. Until I get in a car, anyway. I have effectively ditched cholesterol meds, diuretics, and blood pressure meds, and feel better than I have in years. Years..
At one point in my life, everything was open. Firefighter? Yes, I could do that one day, if I choose. President? Senator? It was all open.
Now my options are limited, if not by time or talent, then by age. They just don't train 50-year-old firefighters.
I waste a lot of time. I play a game of online scrabble almost every day. I do a few sudokus, and a game or two of solitaire. I blog, which some may call a waste of time. I call it 'practice.' I often use blogging as a warmup for legitimate writing, for pay.
Ironically, as I have been pondering my limited remaining time, and my poor use of it, a couple of examples of time stewardship have brought themselves my way.
Mother Earth News this month featured Scott and Helen Nearing, who used to be regular contributors. They built their home and outbuildings by hand from New England stone, first in Vermont, then in Maine. They set out upon this adventure intentionally, moving from NYC during the Depression in search of a self-sustaining lifestyle. They selected their homestead site based on three criteria: arable soil, water views, and isolation. The isolation was selected not because of an anti-social inclination, but in an effort to test their self-sufficiency.
Their first location in Vermont was a bit too isolated. They did not strike up friendships with their neighbors and didn't feel it was going to happen, so they looked for another site. They eventually chose Maine, where they built and stayed. They wrote several books on living a meaningful, simple life.
Scott Nearing worked his soil organically, even 'way back then. When he sent soil samples to the state for assessment, it flunked, coming back with a note saying his soil was too rich; lay off the composting.
The Nearings structured their days built on 3 components: four hours for 'bread labor,' four hours for music, writing and avocations, and four hours for social and civic interaction.
This method of time management has caught my imagination. DH followed the Nearings in the 70's, while they were still regular contributors to MEN. He still regrets the day he disposed of his old mags. Me, I recently 'discovered' them, but they have definitely caught my attention, even posthumously.
Another simultaneous thread during the last week has been a post on one of my favorite places, Danny Gregory's website. In the 6 months or so that I have been following him, I have NEVER visited his website without finding inspiration, motivation, and a lift of my spirits. He makes me feel I CAN. Can what? Whatever I want. His most recent post sought me out with perfect timing. Today I am using Google Chrome, which is weird with blogger, so I can't slip in the hyperlink, I just have to give it to you outright:
All the irony of these time-related threads converging this week came to a climax tonight when I called my gf to ask her over for a Glass-o'-Wine. Oooh, she sighed, I may not be good company. Why not? I asked. Well, my 55th bday is next week, and it has occurred to me that my time is limited.
This was too spooky. A really loyal gf would have let her have her own crisis, and not chimed in, but I have never been known for my subtlety. NO KIDDING? I hooted. Are you thinking the world is no longer your oyster? That your options are limited, and it all sneaked up on you??
YES! she shouted. We tit-for-tatted (in a good way) for several minutes and I for one felt much better knowing someone understood exactly how I felt.
I have in truth been struggling with my time management for some weeks, but this week's synchronicity may be a tipping point. I look forward to seeing what Danny says in his next posting. Until then...
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