Life Design Action: Digging Time Treasure
Does not require: Treasure boxes
Wow. I woke up this morning and realised that it was a week ago that I went into labour with the Man Cub. So strange. Last Sunday, Mothering Sunday, I was with Bump. The following morning I was with Wriggling Angel of Gorgeousness. How can seven days have whisked past this quick? Like a train rushing through a valley in a mountain. One minute its here, wind is whistling, your hair is blowing, your watching and laughing and pointing.
The time has passed. Never to return.
Time passing is a crazy thing, at the best of times, isn’t it, yet with a new born it seems even crazier. It goes from being fairly rigid and crystallised (pre-baba) then transmutes into stretchy chewing gum oozy stuff (post-baba).
Days become strangely disjointed, with hours spent up in the night when everyone else is in a land of lullabies and rest.
Mornings become an extension of gritty eyed hours before the sun came up. Not quite the same refreshing things they once were.
And during this time-warp, you are vaguely aware that you are in this Night/Day continuum along with the global tribe of other new born parents. Somewhere else. Out there. A new breed of nocturnal humans who share time with the foxes. And the moon. And the tickity tick-tock clock.
Before I had the Man Cub I was quite geared up for the strange times that I would be awake.
I have, after all, been here twice before.
So, whilst treasuring the moments of being with this little soul (oogling his face, hugging him close to me, stroking his soft hair and his furry little shoulders – yes, he HAS furry shoulders!) I am also using these night-owl moments to do things that I’d never usually do – things that I’ve told myself I don’t have time to do because of work and other things.
I’ve been reading things.
Its made me think about Time a lot.
Hours, minutes, months, years … all tick tocking away …
How do we use it? How do we abuse it? How do we choose to spend it?
Over the years I’ve had a good chunk of coaching clients tell me that they don’t have the time to do what they need to do in order to have their lives be how they’d love them to be.
Is it time that’s the problem? Or excuses?
What do you reckon?
Obviously none of us were about in 1508 when Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, but it’s easy to guess just how he spent his hours during that massive four year project.
Not only would he have to learn the technique (he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel but Mikey was actually a sculptor by trade). He would also have had to plan the project in depth; get his art supplies in and get up the scaffolding to do the job itself.
And whilst we’ve have no idea if he had the luxury of working on just that one creative project, what we do know is that he wasn’t banging out hours just mindless hit on the telly.
How do you spend your precious time?
If you think about someone living or dead who you admire and has achieved the sort of things that you would love to achieve, how would they spend/treasure their time?