Rush, rush, rushing. Time slips through my fingers. Is it that my lists are too long, or is it that I am getting slower at accomplishing the crossing off of things on them? There is no time to do all that I wish, have or need to do. It makes for a rich life, but only when I can find the time to sit and appreciate it. This isn’t a mindful way. I know this. But there are these demands that things are done. And of course there’s my fear, always there, of failure, of not understanding, or of how to do so many new things. I want to walk for longer in the mornings, I miss it. I do walk but I have to curtail it to fit all the other things in. It is my fault. I need to take stock and sit in the sun a while.
