We are all constantly thinking about time and how to use it, or how to get the most from it. We measure time in productivity which is incorrect but it's too late to change that for the world. We can possibly change it for ourselves. I was recently asked what I think the best use of my time is. I answered, "when I enjoy it," Appreciate it. Romanticize it. We are alive. But for how long? We don't decide how fast or slow the clock is ticking. There are certain things we must do and they're not always things that are enjoyable. Find the people who make the most mundane experiences and tasks feel like pure delight. Be with them. But more importantly be one of those people for yourself. Enjoy your own company at least as much as you enjoy anyone else's, if not more. Make your time whatever you want it to be. Know your joys. They don't have to be grandiose or expensive. Mine are so tiny. I sprinkle them like pixie dust into everything I do. I have a pink mug with my initial on it, a smooth magenta blanket on my bed surrounded by a sea of rosy velvet and fluff. It makes me feel like a movie star whenever I simply sip coffee from my cozy covers. I sip and I write and I look out the window to appreciate the view. The coffee is just coffee or it is the perfect cup of steamy serenity to invigorate the sleeping spirit within me. My writing is just my writing or it is my soul bleeding out of me in the brightest crimson and violet dyes on mounted silk canvas. The view is just a view, or it is the radient marigold sun and spotless sky blended with the everlasting meadow making everything that isn't joy seem miniscule. Set the scene for yourself as if you are the main character because you are. It's your life. It's your time to use. Define comfort and bring it to life in your space. What does that look like? Maybe it's order. Shelves, alphabetized and olor coded files, tabs in binders, notebooks. Pristine, pointed pencils all in a line next to your To-Do List, signed, dated and checked. Maybe it's chaos. Open books, wavering pages, magazine clippings, strewn across the floor. Snapshots of friends, sketches, crafts, plastered on the walls where you've carved your initials and wildest dreams. Love your environment. We live in a world that requires us to work for hours. If work does not bring you joy, welcome to the club. Work is not meant to be your life or identity. Do it because it needs to be done, but do not let it infiltrate your joy. Separate it. Think of work as the thing you do before you enjoy your time. Make life after work seem magical because life after work is life after all. Sprinkle your pixie dust. Think of your arrival home as your slice of chocolate cheesecake and glass of wine before bed. You are coming home to solitude. A quiet home. You can do and wear nothing and dance to loud music and nobody will know. You can trust that you will always be in great company when you are by yourself. Or you are coming home to the most loyal companion who presses his wet nose up against the window and springs with paws up to your shoulders because he lives for your return. Or you are coming home to your loving partner who welcomes you with the most tender hug like the joining of two puzzle pieces because they missed you like you didn't wake up together. Or you are coming home to your precious creations who's itty-bitty hands grasp up at your coat to say "look at me!" And all they know is joy, joy, joy. Enjoy with them. Enjoy them. Enjoy you. Enjoy your joys. Sprinkle your dust.
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Eternal Metamorphosis 