I'm Fighting Myself. Time.

I'm fighting myself. All the time. The things that I want to do and the things I can do.

When I was younger I never cared much for my time. I had a fantasy of dying by 26 when I was teenager. But that mark has passed, and I'm happier for it. Not in an existence way. Just what did I know about time at 14? I also had fantasies of being a great poet, or novelist. But who knows why the way those things turn. 

Time.

Now I have so much. And every second seems precious. 

Every day I try to create. To move forward. To see things differently. To grow myself. Every moment a chance I will only get once. And how inspiring and how terrifying. 

Time is delicate that way. And impenetrable. 

I'm trying hard to be present. To take these moments in. And I'm still full of ideas. I'm writing the third script for The Weekend Playlist and I'll be recording those and editing them tonight. But there's more. I want to go to the movies. I want to sleep. I want to eat a good meal. 

Something funny hit me this morning.

I was on my morning walk going to the studios. 

A little more than three years ago I took the walk on my own. Headphones. Sunlight. The birds and the air. Then somewhere during there and now, I got companion. 

And my morning walk changed.

At first I carried him. He rested against my chest. So light and easy to hold. He could nap laying across my forearm. Watching the trees pass over him and the across his face. And the music I could sing to him. And we could share the mornings.

Then he got bigger and he was a two arm hold. And we made a ruckus. Singing on the walk. Naming everything as we went. Mailbox. Tree. Grass. Dog. Bird. Octagon. We could listen to music on my phone and he plays drums on my head. And we laugh. And yell. And bark.

Then today he wanted to walk on his own. He wanted to stop and explore a patch of grass looking for ants. He didn't care to get to the studio. He wanted to sing his own songs. He wanted me to listen.  He wanted to turn. And run. And stop. He wanted to find a squirrel as it raced over head on a power line. 

Then after the first street he got tired, and I carried him again in my arms the rest of the way. And again we named things. The neighbors bamboo. The cars. And the colors. The stopped and watched the chickens.

But there was a moment. It means everything. It means change. It was the future. And I saw so many great and terrifying things. What do I know of Time?

-rene

ps. as always like, share, subscribe and if you want to talk you can reach me on this blog, youtube, facebook and twitter,