Time. It flies. It races. It passes. It takes. Apparently, we don’t have much of it and there isn’t enough of it in the day. But we all share an equal amount. God gave every one of us, the gift of 24 hours.
Yet, most of us don’t try to use those precious hours to achieve something that will bring us closer to success, happiness or love. Instead, we rely on: ‘Well, I haven’t got the time for that.’ Everyone has the time to change their lives, even those with months left to live. Though their fate may be inescapable, they can achieve things that they did not think previously possible. Tick off new adventures on their previously unthought-of bucket list.
I was often heard saying: ‘I’d love to write a book/articles/children’s stories, but with two kids, I don’t have the time.’ What a pathetic excuse to hide my laziness and most importantly, my fear. Much safer to stay within the comfy confines of the home; making cakes, playing hide and seek and helping my husband build his business. Some days, I didn’t even bother washing my face or getting dressed. I loved it. Yet, my marshmallow brain was getting softer and softer and I was feeling restless. I knew I should be doing more.
Stuart, my husband, wakes up at 5am and cycles to the gym. He’s at his desk by 7am and makes the most of every hour in the day. Well, most of them. He’s prone to the occasional 2pm bath and we’re both often seen on ours bikes, cycling around the park, at midday. But hey, all work and no play…
Where could I be found at 5am? Usually catching up on last night’s missed sleep. Sod getting up at 5am, when I was up two hours earlier chasing vampires out of my daughter’s room. The writing could wait.
My laptop, charged and ready, waited for me patiently every day whilst I busied myself with re-arranging the dining room, clearing out the 2008 tins of peaches and pulses from the kitchen cupboards and searching eBay for Snoopy themed trinkets.
I had the same 24 hours as Stuart, President Obama, Andy Murray and Banksy, but I was achieving so much less. So, I made a decision. I challenged myself to stop watching TV. Well, only after the CBeebies Bedtime Story at 7pm. It was a start.
No more wasting time on telly porn. It prevents me from achieving and keeps me firmly on the bean-bag of my comfort zone. A very comfy and familiar place, but as we all know, ‘there’s no growth in comfort.’
If you tell me you’ve no time to achieve your dreams but you know what Phil’s up to on Eastenders or who won the British Bake Off, you’re lying. Get up earlier, go to bed later. Write a poem on the bus, draft a play on the train. Even if you only take one teeny step towards your goal, at least it’ll be one step forward. Otherwise, you’re just the Old Boot stuck on the ‘Start’ watching the Top Hat, the Dog and the Ship race ahead (I can’t remember the other Monopoly characters).
Just stop watching TV and complaining there aren’t enough hours in the day. There’s 24 of them. What could you achieve in 24 hours?