“Time is what we want the most, but we use the worst” – William Penn
I find myself wishing, almost on a nightly basis, that there were more hours in the day. My day generally starts around 5am. I get ready for work. Get my kiddies ready for day-care. Make the trip between home and my office. I love the drive. Early morning sunlight over sugarcane fields, good music and the sound of my little ones chatting and laughing from the back of the car. A time for reflection and, sometimes, mental list making for the day ahead.
Once I walk into the building my day flies by in a blur of activity. Although my days are busy, I can’t really say that I hate my job. Our office is animated. My colleagues accustomed to my somewhat colourful vocabulary and loud ways. We laugh, chat and joke in between doing the tasks for which we are paid. I keep my notebook close and regularly find myself jotting down ideas or having little brainstorming sessions when my mind is roused by something I have seen, heard or read.
Between leaving work and the kids finally going to sleep, I find myself anxiously awaiting the house to fall into that soothing silence when I know, that finally, my time is my own. I try and get as much done in those limited hours before I am too exhausted to think straight and head to the comfort of my bed for a few hours of rest before I once again have to awake for the start of a new day.
For years I have used time, or the lack thereof, as my standing excuse for not putting pen to paper, justifying side-lining my passion for writing on the fact that I was too busy with work, studying and being a mom. One night sitting, feet up, phone in hand, a picture quote in my newsfeed jumped out at me – “If you have time to go on Instagram then trust me… you’re not ‘too busy’…” I actually felt guilty, like the post was aimed directly at me.
How often we spend hours, literally hours, on scrolling aimlessly through newsfeeds on Facebook or watching episode after episode of some popular series. No more!! I know now, that time is not my enemy, my use of it is. I am an enemy of my own progress. Now I am taking each day as it comes. Some days are more productive than others, but any progress is a step closer to reaching my goals and following my passion.
Do you have any tips on finding time to fit it all in, duties, life and writing? Please share.