TIME

It was Benjamin Franklin who said “Lost time is never found again.” I have felt this way for quite a while. Money can always be earned, recovered, found, even stolen. Love, perhaps harder, depending on what kind you are looking for. But Time cannot be replaced. It is a most precious and valuable commodity.

Alas, this post is not about getting older and looking through one’s life, etc. When I am retired, I will expound on what slight bits of wisdom I have been able to glean by simply waking up and going through life every day.

Instead, I am referencing the dreariness of time management. Writers, those not currently retired, must consider their employment and their relationships and their accommodations. I have to devote time to getting up and preparing for work, going through the work day, and then coming home. I am no longer a young child but as a homeowner I must consider mowing the lawn, going grocery shopping, and other occasional bits of maintenance. I certainly can’t take for granted my wife of twenty-six years; spending time with her keeps me focused on one of the reasons for engaging in this creative process.

Twenty-four hours in a day. 168 in a week. You can create a pie chart, a graph, or any other mathematical symbol to indicate how many hours you may have available to you in total AFTER considering all the required elements. You can find an appropriate app. Whatever you do, if you want to continue as a writer, you must not complain about what you do not have in terms of ideal time but how you can make the most of what you do have.

Golda Meir said “I must govern the clock, not be governed by it.” Therein lies the contemporary dilemma. Our modern lives are tied into the ever-present clock, whether it is the annoying tick of a plastic wall clock or the little one at the bottom right of your computer screen. Industry today, all kinds, are guided by the factor of time in schedules, increments, and expectations.

I am not going to sit here and outline any specific plan or proposal. My life is likely vastly different than yours. However, I refuse to acquiesce when I know my passion for writing will not be plowed under by a second hand. Some ten years ago I worked with a young man who was also a writer. He was twenty years younger than me and complained about not having enough time to write. While I could appreciate his sentiment, I mentally threw his argument out the window.

He lived in an apartment with very little maintenance; I was a homeowner. At the time, he was with the third girlfriend since I started at the job; I was married and had been for some time. We both worked full-time. The problem was while I was fitting my writing into the parameters of my life, he was busy playing role-playing games until the wee hours of the morning. I had two novels published; he was still working on the first draft of his 180,000-word fantasy novel which he was hesitant to edit.

So be it.

Time is a precious and valuable commodity. When I’m retired and can look back on several years of living, I want to be able to say I made time to write because it was important to me and fed my soul.