Here I am, life rocking me like a hurricane.
Then, this funny thing happened: I crossed paths with an incredibly cute, smart, and painfully sarcastic young Italian woman who stole my heart.
Now, she’s left me with nothing but this anxious brain of mine to sit and stew with – which means a lot of reminding myself I should be writing and promptly finding several ways to procrastinate instead of just doing it.
Anyway, life update: the hurricane has not subsided, I was just well-distracted from it for awhile.
I’ve been thrown back to square one.
At one point, I knew what I wanted to do because it was simple: accept the offer I was given to join the Master’s program and keep on schooling. Easy, breezy, beautiful, Cover Girl! Except it hasn’t been.
I forgot to account for the existential dread that would come with the completion of my Master’s degree suddenly looming closer. One minute I’m distracted from my timeline, the next I’m having four panic attacks slowly remembering things I need to do that I managed to compartmentalize and forget about.
Besides all that inner brain anxiety exacerbation, there’s also just literally no time. Or, certainly, not enough. I feel like I’ve written about that more than anything else – maybe I haven’t, but that’s how it feels.
Time escapes us every day that we live. Here I am selfishly pining after others’ time only to find my own logic thrown in my face.
I think that the real issue here isn’t so much that I don’t value time as much as others do. Surely, my lack of appreciation for my own time is what constantly leads to me feeling as though I lack the time necessary to do the things I want to do and see the people I want to see. Nonetheless, I think it’s also the case that others just literally don’t view time the way I do. I can’t say I’ve mastered the art of ‘living in the moment’ but it is a creed I’ve come to associate with quite closely.
Why?
Because I value what people have to say and I find that if I’m worrying about what comes next – what writing I’m not doing, what marking needs to be done, etc etc. (the list goes on for millenia) – then I’d never have time to actually sit, listen, and absorb what’s being said to me. To give each problem or each story it’s proper attention and appropriate reaction.
I invest in people because everyone has a story to tell and I want to hear it while I’m around to hear it. Lord knows I’ll never get to hear every story on this godforsaken blue-green rock but I can do my best to pay attention. And, to care.
Lately, I must admit I’ve been really, really bad at ‘filling my own basket’, to co-opt a metaphor my counsellor used to describe self-care. I’ve been incredibly depressed, for a great number of reasons I could pinpoint and others I cannot. And yet, even still my desire to help others – simply by listening and being there – has not completely diminished.
On that note, read What Dreams May Come by Richard Matheson.
For the climax alone, What Dreams May Come is an emotionally-engaging and startlingly real text despite its fantastical setting for the majority of the novel. While you’re at it, take a peek at the 1998 film adaptation starring Robin Williams and directed by Vincent Ward.
(But don’t make the mistake of assuming it’s a musical and showing it to your girlfriend with that assumption in mind – you will be making a tragic mistake)
I digress, What Dreams May Come is a good example of a visual depiction of the kinds of energy I believe influence us and that we influence in our immediate environment and the wider world/universe.
And I haven’t devoted enough time to restoring my own energy because, as I am wont to do, I spent that time pouring so much of myself into others’ baskets – even when they didn’t need me to. Up until recently, I chased reciprocity – I chased the idea that simply because I give, I will receive in equal measure. How funny it is when you’re lonely and ready to throw all of the responsibility for your own happiness onto others…
Don’t get me wrong, though. Lovers, family, and friends are all there to support us through our deepest and darkest descents into the catacombs of depression, anxiety, and whatever else ails us.
Yet, the key to our salvation lies ultimately within each of us as individuals – in combination with the support of those we love and who give us love.
But not all of those friendships and relationships hold the same weight to others as they do to you… and that’s fine. (To an extent, of course: know you are worth more than depleting your physical and mental health for anyone or anything that doesn’t respect, appreciate, or return the love you show in kind)
The truth is simply that we all value our time differently.
Perhaps I’ll keep this handy Jessica Valenti article around whenever I feel bad about how I view time. I think Valenti (a brilliant writer, I might add – if you’re a heterosexual, cisgendered man and haven’t read The Purity Myth, I recommend it) speaks to our different perceptions and how time is something we must bend, not something we should be bent or broken by ourselves.
Now, grab that Time Stone and get to work!
In the meantime, I’ll be finishing my MA Creative Project, putting together a podcast with the mighty talented and intelligent Clint Fleury, and getting this bread as the kids say.
Wish me luck!
thatfroninja. 