And Then One Day You Find Ten Years Have Got Behind You

Everthing is moving so fast. I can't seem to keep up.

I am at the point where I would beg, borrow, cheat, or steal to have more time.

More time to myself alone to do nothing.

More time to nap in a quiet house with no people and no animals to wake me.

More time to write, revise, and create unencumbered.

More time to organize my life.

More time to do the things I don't like to do, like clean.

More time to do the things I love to do.

More time to learn new things.

More time to do the things I should do.

More time to write letters and talk to friends.

More time to sip lattes and enjoy nothingness.

More time be myself instead of a wife and a mommy.

But most especially, more time to be a wife and a mommy without all those other things looming perpetually on the horizon. I want more time to enjoy my life as it is.

And I am so tired of being tired.

Which leads me to think that immortality wouldn't be the worst thing after all. Knowing that you had the rest of eternity to accomplish your personal goals takes off the pressure. You don't have that niggling in the back of your head that I have now - that voice whispering, "This is the only life you have. Use it wisely."

That's the thing that bothers me the most: The thought that I might be wasting my life. I idea that when I die, the sum of my efforts will amount to nothing. So I strive. I run myself ragged trying to do everything right. I am Faustian in my pursuits. Faust, you will remember, was a tragedy.

I don't know what the solution is. I don't know how to find peace. The Buddhists would tell me to let it go, any maybe they're right. Is learning to let go is the key to happiness?