So Goes My Life

At the beginning of 2010, my goal was to write daily, whether here or another site or even in a journal. It's been nine days since I have even picked up a pen (metaphorically speaking).

I let life run away with my time. Or perhaps, it's time running away with my life.

I remember when I was a little girl, I used to count the number of days until my birthday or some other holiday, waiting with great anticipation for the event to arrive. It seemed that a week took forever. A year seemed like a lifetime. At nearly 55 years of age, the years race by, months turning into decades. It hasn't gotten easier as I become older, because I'm realizing a true sense of time running out.

It's funny to me now that, at 18 years old, I thought 25 was ancient. I remember telling a friend on her 30th birthday, "You're really cool for 30!" I think I was 24. Now that I'm just a few months from 55, friends who are now turning 70 seem rather young.

And all I can wonder is when and how did I get here? I cannot remember each passing year. I have not done all that I had hoped or accomplished what I had set out to do. I've let aspirations take a second place to life and I cannot catch up, no matter how much I wish, hope, or visualize.

I recognize that writing daily is a goal, and goals can be changed. But changing goals to accommodate one's lifestyle feels a bit like settling for less. After all, I should be able to do everything that I want to do, set out to do, SAY I will do.

And therein, lies the dilemma. If I say it, I should be able to make it happen. Anything less is failure. That's what I think and feel sometimes, and it's why so many days turn into weeks, months, or years before I get back on track.

I have proven that writing everyday is not yet likely or possible for me. Sometimes, I don't feel like saying much of anything. (Surprise, Mom! Sometimes I do not need to hear myself talk/write.) Sometimes, I don't know what to say and I do not want to force the words just for writing's sake.

So, I'm dedicated to writing consistently, perhaps several times a week, on topics that touch me at the moment. Forcing them only seems to thwart the goal of making sure the words hold meaning to me.

And time will continue to march on whether I do it...or not.

Source: Coral Levang, "Living Beyond the Challenges," WordPress blog