Tag: time

Finally finding My Chill

Published on by MorrighansMuse2 Comments

Lately, I’ve found myself telling my teen “When I was your age…” or “Back in my day…” and I’m no longer shocked that the words come out of my mouth like I used to.

I’m a lot older now and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I’ve got lines on my face where there weren’t before, qualified to apply for AARP, and I’m 75% for growing out my grays this year — that is if I’m brave enough to tell my hairdresser that when I see him again since I’ve had to cancel three times in a row when I got that respiratory bug everyone got for Christmas. It has allowed my gray roots to really show like never before… and I kinda like it.

And just like my view on the dreaded gray roots, I think my perspective on life has definitely softened over the years. I’ve reminded myself not to get so worked up on every little thing especially the ones you can’t do anything about. Time is just too short to get all stressed out (thank you, premenopause) or expect perfection in everything I do to the point that I either a) don’t get it done at all or b) I don’t enjoy what I used to enjoy doing.

And you know what? Time is just too dang short.

So as I grow older, I’ve decided to be chill about things as best I can… unless of course, it’s driving around L.A. looking for a parking spot.

Daily writing prompt
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
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Not Enough

Published on by MorrighansMuse6 Comments

I used to complain about not having enough time to do all the things I wanted to do in the day.

For example, today, I want to dive into day 3 of Daily Creative: A Practical Guide for Staying Prolific, Brilliant, and Healthy by Todd Henry and write my thoughts in my new journal. But I haven’t done it yet and it’s already past noon as I write this. Instead, I walked the dog twice and watched an educational segment on writing blurbs while knitting a cowl before discovering I made a mistake about seven repetitions back as the yarn broke.

Unfortunately, time isn’t the only thing I find myself complaining about these days. It’s having the energy to do everything on my daily list as well. By the time I get to the most important thing on my list, I’m knackered and ready for bed.

But I guess it’s simply part of getting older.

We simply run out of time and energy—unfortunately, both at the same time.

Daily writing prompt
What do you complain about the most?
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dear self

Published on by LizLeave a comment

if i were to do it all over again, i’d tell the younger version of myself to love herself more. i’d tell her to leave every man who told her she wasn’t good enough for she’s stronger than she’ll ever know.

i’d tell her she wasn’t fat, that being a size 12 was just fine. i’d remind her that she thought the same thing when she was a size ten even if she won’t remember that time.

i’d tell her she’ll create art she’ll later destroy, and that she’ll create something that will live forever. i’d tell her to speak her truth now even if she’ll change her mind about things later.

i’d tell her to report the rape for she did nothing wrong that night. i’d beg her to stop carrying the shame of not putting up a fiercer fight.

i’d remind her not to try smoking even if all she wanted was to write about it. but she won’t have to worry about the weed because she’ll never learn to hold it.

i’d tell her to stay for the right reasons even though she’d end up doing it for the wrong ones. but you can only control so much – you win some and you lose some.

i wanted to tell her these things and more but she ran off before i could, too intent to live her life on her own terms even if she’d always be misunderstood.

Worn

Published on by MorrighansMuseLeave a comment

“Age is just a number,” says the well-worn adage. But is it a number you care about, or one you tend (or try) to ignore?

20140727-122151-44511025.jpgI’m getting older every single day
the minutes are ticking, the hours long gone
the lines form and groove ever so slowly on my face
carved like notes to an old song

They say age is just a number,
but it’s really one mark after another on the wall
with each day that goes by without you,
wondering when you’ll return – if you’ll return at all

So I’ll sit here, and watch the time pass me by
wondering where I went so wrong
How could I ever have let your love die?
It’s been so long now since I’ve been strong

But time, it cares not a worry,
it cares not for the lines it grooves on my face
it waits for no one, not even for our lost love,
not even a trace

Daily Prompt