Every year I realize how quickly time passes, and as this year marches forward to its end, I find myself wanting to do something in recognition of life’s little moments.
In October, I thought of doing this by creating a collage of sorts, with images representing a fall that was passing all-too-quickly. But October came and went, and then November followed suit, and still no collage.
Time has done it again. It’s outsmarted me; tricked me into thinking there was still plenty of it left. But there was not. There is not.
Time is relentless.
Why is it so hard to stop amidst the every day flurry of activity and even the stillness, and just reflect. Reflect on what has been accomplished, what was done well, what was left wanting.
October came and went and it was filled with birthdays and pumpkin pie, Thanksgiving chicken and more pie. There was a most-epic movie and a yearly reunion with a lifelong friend.
There was a corn maze, Halloween-town, haunted houses and costumes.
October was filled with Tai Chi and Chai tea and music discoveries and new playlists.
And it was filled with sadness; the sadness that comes with endings (even if they’re not your own), and the flutter of hope for new beginnings—for transformation.
October made way for November, as it does every year, and the fears of the coming winter weather surfaced too, like they do every year.
November was full of wind chill and heaps of snow.
November had shopping insanity, and writing adventures. It was a time for new projects and parallel creativity; a time to invade libraries and pubs alike with our laptops and imaginations.
Well, November is long gone and we’re now into The December of Doom. It’s time for the Thousand-yard Stare as we make our way to that dreaded Hell portal called The Mall. My last shopping expedition was not too bad, all things considered. I was able to get in and out of the mall in a mere 45 minutes. (I’d rather not discuss the previous mall outing, in which I was sucked into a panic-generating vortex of Black Friday madness).
I’m not someone who relishes the shopping experience even at the best of times (“best of times” here means, any time that is not a frenzy-inducing holiday that reduces even the most happy-go-lucky shopaholics into Flesh-eating Mall Zombies), so shopping around Christmas is really, really low on my list of things I want to do.
Still, December does hold the promise of re-uniting with friends and family, of meeting new people. And it promises creative collaboration and celebration.
There is much to look forward to. [Tweet this!]
December still has the feeling of newness; that naivety that accompanies the start of many things, the start of a new job, for instance, a new relationship, that first morsel of a delicious meal you hope never ends until you realize you’re stuffed full and cannot stand another bite.
So here’s to the relentless march of time. May we always recognize life’s little moments.
And here’s to December, a work-in-progress that will end all too soon