The problem is, you think you have time.

The problem is, you think you have time.

I have quite some time on my hand at the moment as I’m on sick leave, recovering from 2 surgeries in 1 month and resting up for what is to come in the next four weeks.

Time is tricky.
Sometimes it passes fast.
Sometimes it slows down to a halt.

I always liked to organize my time and plan.
But when time and plans get thrown overboard a little, that’s when time shows its real face.

Time is a matter of perspective.

When you’re young you want it to move faster so you get to summer holidays, to your first kiss, to your driver’s license, to your independence.

Then time becomes an age thing by which you should have accomplished this, that or the other, have married and had kids maybe, bought a house, settled down.

And once you have kids you realise that time flies. It has big wings and flaps away from sleepless nights, over first steps to teenage moods in the blink of an eye.

And you realize you’re mid way. Or something like that.
You never really know when your midway is anyway.

And time seems to halt for a bit. And you think: what else do I really want to do with this precious life.
You know, the kind of write a novel, climb Kilimanjaro, buy a Harley kind of things…

And when life slows you down for some reason, you realise that it really doesn’t.

That even the daily coffee/job/dinner/sleep/repeat is only slightly changed.

I read a lot more now.
I write a lot more too.
I art in a different way (less huge canvas, more small drawing/collaging prompts).

I try (and often fail) to Carpe the diem.

I still plan: my next vacation (Madeira), a barbecue with friends, concerts (The Boss and Hollywood Vampires – oh and Suzanne Vega catch up from 2020).

But I know that things get cancelled, shit happens, plans get overthrown.

And for the first time I am aware that I get less upset about it. That I even get curious about what might come in its stead.
Sometimes the stead is fun and so much more interesting.
Sometimes it’s just plain horrible.

But it is what it is.

And that’s okay.