Transience

By the end of my life, I wonder how much time I’ll have wasted.
 

I wonder how much time I’ll have spent on projects I’ll never finish, and chasing goals I’ll never catch.

 

I wonder how much time I’ll have spent pursuing relationships that never go anywhere or maintaining relationships that will just fall apart in the end.

And I wonder how much time I’ll have spent trying something new and hating it, or doing extra work that I didn’t have to do.

 

It’s impossible to say how much time I’ll waste by the end of my life. I might live to be 100. I might die tomorrow. I wonder how much time I’ll waste during retirement, how many days I’ll spend playing golf, or surfing the internet, promising myself I’ll get to the important stuff later.

By the end of my life, I wonder how much time I’ll have spent second guessing my decisions, making plans that are destined to fall apart, and thinking about doing something instead of doing it.

 

When I think about time, my mind pops out of the world. By the end of my life, I wonder how much time I’ll have wasted on impossible questions. The thoughts go nowhere. I roll the ideas around with my tongue, licking the juices. The taste turns bitter so I swallow hard, then I choke myself back to reality.

…By the end of my life, I wonder how much time I’ll have spent making dumb mistakes.

 

I wonder how much time I’ll have spent doing one thing, when I could be doing multiple things.

I wonder how much time I’ll have spent getting sleep I don’t need, or taking too long to eat. That must be a massive quantity...

Yesterday, I asked my dad if I’ve ever wasted his time. He was quiet for a moment; then he told me he loves me, and he would do absolutely anything for me. Anything! He would travel to the moon and back. He would face any villain or monster. And there was nothing I could ever do to change that.

I said ‘same’… Then I asked if I’ve ever wasted his time.

…By the end of my life, I wonder how much time I’ll have spent repeating myself…

For as long as I can remember, parents, teachers, friends, and family have told me to plan for the future, to understand the effects of my actions, to always know the next step. For as long as I can remember, parents, teachers, friends, and family have told me to enjoy the present, to be happy with what I have, to be free from rigid expectations. Time is everything. Time is nothing. I need to plan for the future. I need to live in the moment.

By the end of my life, I wonder how much time I’ll have spent thinking about how best to spend my time, trying to be thrifty with time, or trying to get the most “bang for my buck”.

Time is a currency. People can spend it. People can save it. Sometimes, I wonder if people can also horde it under their mattress until the economy gets better. The problem with time is you don’t know how much of it you have; but for some reason, I feel like, no matter how much time I get, by the end of my life, it won’t be enough.