Time Only Exists When You Look Outside

I was standing in the shower today, in one of the rare moments of me-time these days, when it occurred to me that I am almost smack in the middle of my life.  34+34 puts me at a respectable 68, which, though it might be on the young side now in western culture, is not out of the realm of Passable.

It made me laugh.  Somehow on the way from trying to freeze time by holding my breath as a child to having a child of my own, I forgot to give credence to the passing of hours and days from a societal achievement perspective. For example, I went walking across a country after leaving my first respectable, full-time-with- benefits job  without a plan as to what I'd do next. At 33. Time for me, has always been a weird and slippery thing.

A large part of my soul just knows time doesn't hold any weight.  Because of this, I contemplate things like going back and getting a degree at Harvard because that's what I wanted to shoot for and then chickened out at 18.  What did I know then? But look at what I know NOW.  Such a much better place to be on the journey of accumulating specific knowledge.  How old am I? 34.  Whatevs.  I could still become a famous singer.  I could become an accomplished character actress.  I could hike across another country.  My point is, everything I could ever dream of doing still feels very much within reach.

I believed in the omnipotence of time for a little while back in my late teens/early twenties.  Then I had a nervous breakdown, thankfully.  I look at that wretchedly scary and uncontrollable experience as my bitch slap by universal truth. Time doesn't matter.  You live your life and follow your passion at whatever age you happen to fall at on the calendar.  The skin and energy and vitality will take care of themselves and do their own thing in symphony with how your soul is believing.

My intention is to keep manifesting my dreams, regardless of the date on a watch or the candles on my cake. I guess on some level, I thought all that might shift when I became a parent. That somehow my life would become clearer and more focused like a funnel when I had a wee human to nurture.

Yet, the wildness remains.  The rampant dreamer and wonderer is still afoot, beckoning me down the trail of possibilities and personal legends.

 I suppose the part of time that made me laugh in the shower today, was the realization that I am an eternal child myself, always curious, always hopeful, even to the last breath I inhale through my body. It certainly doesn't sound very compatible with the check-marks and achievement bars set by society, but what would I change? Nothing.  I love this experience. I love dabbling and dreaming of big things.  I love being surprised when I look in the mirror and see that I have more lines on my face than I remember...and that I put them there in the process of dreaming.