Beat the Clock

I don’t want to play ‘beat the clock’ with the rest of my life. I don’t want to try so hard anymore. I don’t want to keep trying to keep up with all the people who have more than me. More trips, more money, more letters after their names. When a friend told me about 50 by 50, how she had made a list and done everything on it (50 things she wanted to do before turning 50); I thought it sounded like a cool idea, but I was also jealous, she had much more time and money than me, and I had already turned 51. Then the movie the Bucket List got big, again, there was that thing about the money and about running out of time. About doing really fabulous things before you die. Are all the things that we want to do about money? In this 'new' economy? Really?

I will admit, often for me, it seems that way. I want to go to Montreal. It seems impossible now, but not for people I work with, a couple of them have gone, a few times. I want to go to jazz concerts more often, they are happening around me all the time, maybe not quite so impossible. But I want to quit feeling like I’m missing out. I want to cherish what life I do have, so how to work towards Montreal and still be present now?

Last night I had more fun than I’d had in a long time, it took me by surprise. On Tuesdays, Kathleen drives up from Owatonna to teach a night class in the Twin Cities. My two tired grandsons, Max 8 and Elliot 12, were over for the evening. Midweek of spring break, and they’d both had sleepover friends the night before. These tired kids played video games with their aunt Megan, ran around in my small condo yard and shot off their nerf guns while I sat outside and watched them play. Megan made us all fettucine Alfredo and we ate at the table. Then afterwards, one by one they ended up on my big bed in my room, so I put my laptop away, and we started telling stories, singing songs, and eventually put on a hand shadow puppet show using a flashlight as a ‘stage.’

A lot of time went by this way. Soon Kathleen was here to take the boys home to Owatonna. I warmed her up a plate of fettucine. She had taught another night class, doing work she loves, Megan cooked some fabulous fettucine, and I got to spend time with people I love. Being present.