This year my wish for you, my dear readers, is for time.
Tomorrow the one I love most in this world will be on a plane headed far away to the other side of the world. The past two days I raced around to stock the refrigerator and cook him beef wellington for breakfast and rack of lamb for lunch. The weekend flew by, and on the last night I stayed up late, savoring my tiny cup of whiskey until neither of us could think of anything more to say. He hadn’t even left yet and already the vast desert of time before I’d see him again was stretching out ahead of me.
Time is slippery. Time is a tease. It carries me ever further from the days with my daughter who died. It extends endlessly, mercilessly, between the times I am with the ones I care about. Time is all around, regularly evident in my growing gray hair and nails; you can see it all over my face. It’s here ticking, marching, ruling our lives, running, …standing still. And yet, there never seems to be enough time.
So I’m wishing you time, not necessarily more time, but rather a greater awareness of the time we have. May we be more fully engaged in the moments at hand and cradle our time. And color it with joy.
Rowdy laughing time and quiet peaceful time. Time to accomplish all you want to do. Time to do nothing. Time to spare. Enough time. Time that heals and hugs you. Time that is rosy and shines like a sunrise.
I wish you the time to find yourself. I wish you time to glory in the here-and-now.