Who has the time?

I have been about this post for a while now, but this is the first time that I have been able to write for more than a minute at time…

Yes well I gave up writing that post too, so here is another.
Time
It is a man made phenomenon to measure time. To measure everything really, but that’s another post…
In this world we are limited by measurements, the main one seeming to be time.  
No one ever has enough time.
No one can ever fit into their days exactly what they think that they need to. And again we measure -what we need to do.
We live in a day when every hour counts, and now even more so, I feel the constraints that time limits me by.
As a mother and teacher my days are filled before I can think of them. I don’t like to be asked too often about my plans for the weekend, because then I have to think about how many hours are already used over those two measly days. How I am going to fit in everything that needs doing in the limited “time” I have?
My average day begins before seven, not too early I must admit. For the next hour I move at a heightened speed to organise myself and co. Co are not too cooperative in the morning, generally speaking. Between the three of them, at least one of them will cry, or sulk or sit sullenly in a half dressed state until grumpy Mum uses her grumpy Mum voice for the tenth time, only louder.
After drop off, making sure bus money is available, lunches slightly healthy, notes signed and kisses are blown and caught through the car window… I head to work.
Once at work I head to my office, inevitably being caught along the way for a quick chat, that steals my very limited organisational “time”.  

Once alone I open emails, close emails, check lessons, sigh and think about having a coffee, only to realise that I have given all of my change to the kids for the bus, then the bell goes.
Generally speaking the work day is quite a pleasant part of the day. Then there are meetings…

Kids catch the bus to my work and wait while the meetings finish, then I rush them to sports, scouts, dance; sometimes all at once. In between dropping one I will pick up some fruit for morning and the cakes for the class party I had forgotten about.
Getting home in time to put on dinner, but not bring in the washing as it has already gotten dark and the frost has set in, I remember that I didn’t buy potatoes. When I look in the freezer the chips are lying loose, having fallen out of their packet, mixing it up with a few stray peas. I leave them there and settle on pasta.  
Dinner is preparing, as homework is helping, as bath is filling, as dog is fed. “Can someone please take out the recycling?”
I remember I haven’t had a coffee since I’d left in the morning and half think about that, but I think too long and burn the garlic, so have to start again. Kids are arguing about some tv show, I ask again for someone to check the bath. Too late. Overflowed.

Grumpy Mum rears her head again.

Dinner cooked, kids are clean, well sort of. Stories read, time for bed. Not not for me… Not for them either they decide, as a slapstick performance of entrances and exits begins. Drinks and fruit and hot wheat bags… forgotten notes in bottom of school bags. A rotten banana too, but “I don’t like bananas” lays the blame on someone else. “Go to bed”. The mantra is said and heard with little effect.  
Eventually all is quiet. All except the cd player that has “somewhere over the rainbow” playing on repeat. It puts her to sleep…
I sit. Dishes lay dirty on sinks and tables. I sit. I catch my breath and think again of the coffee it is too late to have. I make a tea. Watch some TV.  
It is late. I get up to tidy the kitchen, put another load of washing on before bed, only to find a clean load waiting to be pegged out still in the machine… I stick it in the dryer, ignoring my environmental conscience.
I say goodnight to my dozing husband who has been up and down ladders all day, followed by coaching the junior football team, then home to eat and collapse, put on washing (that I will curse at and chuck in dryer), feed the neglected rabbit, invoice clients, tell kids to “Go to bed” alone and in unison with me…
In bed eventually. I lay awake wondering how I have let another day slip by. Wondering how I will ever have enough “time” to do it all tomorrow. My mind runs circles. I pick up my phone, check my emails and read the messages that I had ignored. “Damn!” I’d forgotten that meeting, I will have to cancel my chiro appointment. Oh well, I can wait…

Fate?

Do you believe in fate?

Tonight I watched “Sliding doors” for the first time since I saw it back in the nineties.  I had liked it then.  Now I see the faults.  The poor acting, the poor editing, the dated music… However the concept of parallel lives that end in the same fate through different paths, interests me. 

Do I think it possible?  I don’t think so.


Think about the people around you that mean the most.  Those that aren’t tied to you by blood.  If events had occurred differently do you think you would have met them anyway?

I can only look at my own circumstance. 


If I had taken the first teaching job that was offered to me, I would never have gone to country Victoria and met Stuart.  

If I had not applied for that job, or won that job, how would I have met him?

If he had left to go back to his family in Warrnambool. 

If he had not been coerced into doing that musical.

If I had not agreed to help out with that musical.

If I didn’t call him.

If he hadn’t answered

If I had thrown him out 

If he had left.

There are so many factors involved in our every day lives, who is to know when one action may change the entire direction of it.  


The question still stands though.  If all of it had never happened, would something else have drawn us together anyway?

Believing such a thing sounds incredibly egotistical.  Believing that you are so important that the world will turn a certain way in order for you to meet the right people?


Fate is lazy.  Fate is believing you don’t have to try.  Fate is accepting that what happens to you was meant to be.  


Meant to be.  


What does that mean?  

Again it is so egotistical to think that what happens to one person is so significant in the scheme of everything, that it was actually “Meant to be”.

I am not saying I don’t value myself, or my contribution to the world.  I do.  It is the fact that I make what happens to me “happen”.


When we consider how much in our lives we have control over, there is much that we can decide, that we can change, that we determine.  Of course there are exceptions of people born into situations where the control and the choices they have are more limited.

However my choice has been limited mainly by my own decisions.  I don’t believe my fate is pre-determined.  I don’t believe there is a path mapped out just for me.  I have the ability to change the course of my life at any point.  


There are however factors I do not have control over, and these factors can change everything at any time.  It is then that the idea of fate becomes a comforting thought.  The idea that “this change was not in my plans, but let’s run with it, because there is some force that is pushing us in this direction for a reason”.  That is it isn’t it.  That we all want to believe there is a reason for our existence.  That is why fate is such a tempting comfort.


Perhaps I would have met him.  Our paths would cross somewhere.  It is a romantic notion to think that our union was written in the stars.  


Hollywood has a lot to answer for…

Gwyneth eat something.

Introducing…

Who am I and why have I started blogging?

I began this blog just over a year ago. I started it so my friends could share in my adventures as I left my home state to live elsewhere for a year. Now I am blogging for different reasons.

I love to write. I have numerous notebooks filled with scribbles of stories, poems, character details, plot outlines… But nothing that I have bothered to rewrite, edit or flesh out into anything substantial. I am hoping through doing this I will learn new skills and find the inspiration and discipline I need to continue what I love.

I am a mother and a teacher. Now my children are at school I am hoping I will find more time to write. This indulgence is me time.

I have no real ideas about what I would like to write about, but I am hoping that I can come up with a collection of fiction as well as some interesting anecdotal stories.

I hope to link with people of different backgrounds that will be willing to share their knowledge through their blogs and maybe read and comment on mine from time to time.

My ultimate aim is to come away from this experience with a renewed sense of self. I am me and I don’t want to apologise for that.

I hope you enjoy reading and sharing.

Sarah JCJ

Oh and I just want to add: I love long walks on the beach…