We traverse this road called life at a breakneck speed, not because we have to, but simply because we feel we should.
The criticality of reaching the destination has supplanted the cruciality of savoring the journey. Precious moments evaporate into fleeting memories. Auxiliary verbs of possibility and obligation are more commonplace than an affirmative of having done something sans regrets.
Have we ever hung up a call or ignored a text simply because we were too busy with school work or office work to afford at least a minute? What if that conversation or text was your last chance to communicate with the person on the other end? Do we ever put our mechanical lives on pause to think about how we’re being thought of?
There are sundry instances when we preferred to be flanked by a mountain of books than to take a moment to behold the sun dyeing and streaking the sky at dawn. We prefer to chew on the tips of pens rather than look at a laughing child playing or a frisky animal romping. So occupied with making that perfect presentation that we are oblivious to those present around us.
I realized that we can’t ask time to wait, or rewind the clock once the moment has come to pass and will never be again. There will always be time constraints. Our planners might not be able to accommodate another comma or period, our phones might be bursting with reminders to write essays or complete that report, but do we remind ourselves that there is, in fact, scope for connections on a personal level? Room for a heart-to-heart? A simple exchange of pleasantries?
A music tutor of mine, icky as his verbal skills were, stirred me with his response when I told him I couldn’t find the time to practice my tunes. He said profoundly, “Don’t say that there’s no time, Suzanne. You have to make time.”
Later in life, I realized that “making time” was applicable to human relationships as well.
Most of the time or all the time, we don’t have time. But are we just so busy doing nothing that we don’t even realize it?