Does anyone else feel the weight of time? I've been feeling it lately, on account of being so busy. Many overtime hours, three kids, a wife on bedrest expecting our fourth... trying to fit in time for blogging and writing has been a challenge (though, of course, if that's my biggest worry, things are pretty good). Time is a precious commodity; sometimes, when you have a lot of if, you forget just how precious. Remembered hours: some spent well, some spent... not so well.
I have lots of ideas and ambitions for this year, but finding the time may not be possible. Trying to be a better blogger, a better writer, a better father. There are things I would like to do. All I can hope is that the pressure of time has its own value, an intense pinpoint force that can focus effort. Because sometimes you can do what you have to do only because you have to do it -- walls can breed an intense desire to climb.
Time as pressure, as an incredible weight -- but there can be something purifying about embracing this. The weight of your life creates this pressure, a geologic force created from the weight of used time, compressing things downward, downward. Sometimes the imagination crystallizes and things come clear and the vast pressure distills something clear and perfect and sharp out of the coal dust swirling off the time of your days, making something beautiful within the smallest window of space and time.