A Thousand Years

I'm trying to figure out why I always have trouble with time. Since my 20's I stopped wearing a watch (I had to wear one when I was a stage manager but quit that at 24). Being near a clock stresses me. Like it's bearing down on me- telling me to hurry up.

I even took astrophysics classes at the American Museum of Natural History to track down the space-time continuum. Is that where it all starts? Is there a lot of it? Why years? Why hours? Why tick-tock?

Duane's been carting around furniture and mementos of his grandparents from one residence to another for years. We found buried in a box a needlepoint by his grandmother, it says: The Hurrier I Go The Behinder I Get. I said that's me! and it's now hanging over my dresser.

This weekend we saw an exhibit of Shaker furniture. On the wall was a quote by a Shaker (Mother Ann):

"Do all your work as though you had a thousand years to live, and as you would if you knew you must die tomorrow."

I read the first part of that line and felt relieved. a THOUSAND years. Wow. That takes the pressure off. Feels relaxing. Makes me comfortable and not crazed. Leaves plenty of room for breathing.

Then the second part comes. "...as if you knew you would die tomorrow..." I get the sentiment. Be in it. Take hold. Embrace the moment. But doesn't that undo the wonderful sprawl of a thousand years?

Can I do both?

I want a thousand years. I need a thousand years. My head is filled with all that must be done, all that I dream of creating. Projects and ideas are lined up like airplanes with impatient passengers all backed up over Laguardia airport at 5pm, all wanting the runway to land.

Without measuring time I sometimes feel the open-ended space of a thousand years (a little). With no clock to tap me on the shoulder every minute I don't think about boundaries of time (as much)...about start and finishes...about what fits and what can't fit.

I just do, be....do be do be do.

Gotta go. I'm late.