What I Did To Time: Kate Light

What I did to time was ball it up, and
throw it out, when I was unhappy,
years ago; chucked it, sprained my hand
wadding it tight, waiting for an end,
the end of a long season, haul
too long to tolerate, questions
I couldn't answer, changes I couldn't make, tall
orders hovering. Couldn't take suggestions
(stubborn pride); couldn't find solutions
(ignorance, fear); but I could hold my breath
and squeeze away a year—nuisance
years fell into faints and met their death.
Now I'd give anything to have that plethora, that stack;
to feel its truth and call its slow pace back.

Boy, who doesn't feel like this sometimes.

I feel like I've definitely been in danger of doing this in the past couple years. Just gritting my teeth, 'getting through', waiting for change. I don't want to do this. Even when things are hard, I want to try to stay present. I don't want to wake up and realize I've gritted 10 years away.

I think I'm getting better at it, recently. Just trying to stay alive in the moment, even when I'd rather be anywhere else.

I read something yesterday that made a difference for me: Saying no can be the ultimate self-care. Saying no to something means saying yes to something else, and maybe that's a way of staying present when things are hard. Making choices, rather than just be swept along in the misery. Sometimes it is all you can do to stay afloat, but when choices appear, making conscious ones maybe can make a difference. Slow time down.

My pledge for today: stay with it.