My kids have more toys, books, games, friends, parks, beaches, pools, more activities in general to keep them occupied and they still come up with the classic, dramatic statement – I’M BORED. I do remember feeling that way at their age, with a whole lot less stimulation at my disposal. My parents would of course argue that they had so much less than me. Perception is reality, I suppose.
And now, I wish with all my heart to feel like there was not so much responsibility pressing on me all the time. I can’t imagine feeling bored. I have a continuous list of things I like to do, it is in fact never-ending. But there does not seem to be enough time in a day to get to much of it.
There must have been a point along the way when time started to speed up. When I was pregnant with my first child, a man whom I did not know very well said to me, “You have no idea how fast the next 20 years will go by.” I was skeptical – what did he know about me? And of course it has been 10 years since that day and it most certainly has flown by.
From the days when I was a bored child, I wanted nothing more than to be older, have more privileges, take more risks. Now in my forties, I don’t care to be any older, responsibility has been piled on pretty high and if my skiing ability is any indication – I am risk averse. The irony is not lost on anyone who knew me as a child.
So now, in a world that has become more complex, fast-paced and some would argue a little less kind – how do we make time for what is really important? How do we enjoy slowing down? On long weekends where I have a stretch of hours to enjoy whatever I choose, my to-do list for personal enjoyment is packed so full that inevitably I am sad at how little I accomplished!
So a long weekend is approaching and I am purposely not creating a list. It is my 41st birthday somewhere in there and other than a reservation for dinner, I’m going to try to remember the joy of slowing down.