In retrospect, I once had plenty of time. I think it is becoming scarce, but I don’t know that with certainty. I know I am not going to live as many years as I have lived. There is a tension to this. Sadness, a little fear. Productive.
I have always been one for deadlines. They motivate me. I don’t like to pass them by.
This year, not for the first time, I have called the year of the book. It is my plan to finish and publish my first one.
Other years, deadlines didn’t have a ring of finality to them. Now they do. This deadline is on my bucket list.
Time, a simple truth, elegant in its push for results. Or maybe a better word, efficient.
Efficient appears elegant to me. Why? Mostly because efficiencies have avoided my grasp. It is time for changing this.
It is time that is changing this. Time’s fuel indicator is below half. It instructs loudly, “Do it now.”
Why? Because I have a voice unheard that begs for rememberance.
A voice that found purpose, a connecting voice. Through it I prosper in flesh and spirit.
I am almost out of time outs and official reviews.
It is time.