Excerpt from Whole Happy and Healthy: A Revolutionary Approach to Understanding and Thriving with Mental Illness http://amzn.to/2mUjVRK
Going home to a place that
With time, with life, with age
Survival is death.
The heavens in my eyes opened up
Liberating me, my
Sleep, food, sex, air
The mirror of my conscience
Hopes, my fears, my love, my rage.
Rage for my
Lost within infinite waste
In that space
So precious and perfect and perilous and free.
Foggy, streaked, cracked
When watching CBS Sunday Morning on, when else, a Sunday morning, I learned that more video is uploaded to YouTube every minute than I could possibly watch in a day. I can’t imagine the luxury of time it would require to even sift through all of the content on the site, let alone the Internet. I only use either when I am looking for something very specific, and something that will, at least in my feeble mind, add value to my life. But apparently some people have the time to watch other people play video games. Wow. I wish I had time to play video games (not really).
I have been sick and laying about the past few days, and taking full advantage of having recently purchased a Roku device. There are so many things — good and interesting movies and shows — that I would like to watch, and I know I will never have enough time in my life to see them all. It brings to mind a conversation I had with a TV-obsessed friend at the age of 24, a time during which I refused to have TV in my home. “I really learn a lot from television.” So true. The guilt I might have felt at that time in my life has vanished; it really is OK to spend time, some time, watching television.
But then there are so many other things I would like to do, like travel and plant gardens and write books and sip tea on rainy days. And then there are all of the things that I need to do. Laundry. Bills. Home maintenance. How does one fit it all in?
It’s impossible. And the finitude of time is slapping me across the face as I look forward to my 40th birthday in a few months. It saddens me that I will never have enough time to completely pursue all of my varied interests. The older I get, the more this realization intrudes upon my ability to live in the moment. Some planning is needed, lest I miss out on the most important things. Like season two of Happy Valley.
So there comes the regret, the guilt. Looking back on my life, I have wasted so much time. So much time, it’s unbelievable. Doing things that did not bring me joy, that depleted me, that robbed my soul of its warmth and effervescence.
Ideally, I would like to work toward a reconciliation of presence and planning — both intellectually and in practice. It is said that life is about choices. But it’s not just the big choices, like where we go to college and purchase a home. It’s also the little things in life that have big consequences, like which TV program to choose next.
(c) Jessica R. Dreistadt 2015-2019. All Rights Reserved.