Wednesday is the New Tuesday

Or it least is has been often enough. Thursday is sometimes the new Tuesday too. And occasionally, on days like today, Friday can even be the new Tuesday. Mostly, I’ve just haven’t gotten one week ahead yet. So, instead I’ve been consistently running a few days behind.

I’m giving myself the rest of March to figure out how to get back to Tuesdays. The goal is to be back on an actual timeline by April. But until then, I hope you’ll enjoy the surprise appearances of new writing on whatever day I get something posted. I’m doing my best to bear with me too.

I keep a running list of writing ideas on my desktop. Things to write about that might only be a sentence or two of a start. Or maybe nothing more flushed out than a headline. A lot of these starters sit for months untouched. Maybe I come back to them eventually, or maybe I delete them altogether. It just depends. It happens mostly on whims. No particular rhyme or reason.

The fallacy of not enough time is one line of my running list. Six words, challenging me for quite a while to take them a bit further. To use them as a foundation for creating something. I’ve read them every week this year, mulling them over for a moment before choosing a different topic. Ironically believing that I don’t have enough time to stretch those six words in a way they deserve. Truthfully believing that I can’t quite build the idea out quickly and clearly at these moments when I’ve already pushed my deadline.

Some days we feel like we have all the time in the world, stretching out lazily in front of us. On other days, we feel inadequate. Like we need seven extra hours in the day, but we still might fall short. Intervals of time don’t change though. One second, one minute, lasts for the exact same length of time today as they will tomorrow. Exactly the same as yesterday. And every day behind and ahead of us.

We get busy. We constantly say that we don’t have enough time for everything, and we forget to give ourselves the credit for cramming so much into our calendar. I’m guilty of this too.

But time doesn’t speed up or slow down for anyone. No matter how politely we ask it to adjust itself for us. Time always ticks along at exactly the same pace. While we constantly swing between strolling slowly and flustered fluttering in the next lane.

It’s the same journey. Us and our time are working off identical maps. The same origin and the same destination. Just entirely different travel tactics.

Time is the tortoise. Precise, methodical, consistent. Time chose its pace, and keeps itself steady for our entire trip. But we’re the hare. Darting ahead to revel in our speedy pace for a while. But then we feel like we’ve lazed about for too long when we realize we’ve fallen behind. So we dart off and slow down, again and again, unable to match the metronome style of the tortoise.

Maybe it all ends like the story too. Time will lean at the tape, edging us out by inches. Time will always be the victor, because we will never feel like we got to have enough of it. The fallacy of not enough time. Because we fail to realize that we’re the ones who struggle to hold pace.

So, you know those days that feel like we’ve got the whole world in front of us? The days when we are moving slow enough to savor our morning coffee while we feel the exciting tingle of the endless possibilities for the whole day stretched ahead? Those are the days I’m always trying to have more of. That way, when time beats me to breaking the tape, I hope I won’t mind so much.