As of recent, I find myself thinking about time a lot. It makes me afraid. Life is flying by and I am not satisfied with mine. I am no longer in my 20's or 30's or even 40's. My three children are all gainfully employed, successful, self-sustaining adults. They don't need me anymore, or at least not in the same way. I am single, without a partner to share my life and activities, and at the moment, jobless.
This has all built to a crescendo and my thoughts thunder at me, questioning, "what, exactly, is important to me and when, exactly, am I going to act on it? What is the meaning of my life?"
The first time I heard "Seasons of Love" (the Broadway song from "Rent"), I think I listened to it 20 times. Yes, I am one of those girls. When I find a favorite song, I listen to it over and over, ad nauseum, much to the chagrin of those trapped in the moving vehicle with me for the next 200 miles. I am not completely satisfied until I have it memorized and can fully enjoy singing it to the tops of my lungs!
I love the pep and beat of the song, and the joyful singing. The vim and vigor of the music belies the seriousness of the words. I have always been one to judge a song on lyrics versus melody, but these lyrics greatly impacted me. This cleverly written song skips along as it breaks down the reality of time and how we spend it.
If you have never heard the aforementioned song, here are the lyrics so can see what I mean:
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, a year in the life?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love
(Season of Love by Johnathan Larson)
As I am re-reading the lyrics, I am thinking, "yep, it always comes back to love for me." I have never been one to want to be the most important at work, or in a high office, or desperate for a flashy lifestyle with a big paycheck. It has always been about relationships for me. I don't measure my life in those other things. It hasn't been until recent years that I could honestly say I am a good person, a true friend, a kind listener. But today, that is who I am.
When my children were still living at home, I was always racing to keep up, as parents do. Do we have the right backpack and we need to get those soccer cleats and are my kids on the honor roll and dinner just got burned in the oven! I did not pay as much attention to my relationships as I should have and paid the price. That crazy woman does not exist anymore, the one who wasted glorious days meant for building a life. Now, after many personal adjustments, there is a hole that I am looking to fill and I am scared. I worry it's too late for me.
And all I know is....to love.
Yes, I can type 90 wpm and am pretty savvy with computers. I can carry on a good conversation and I love to write. But the best of me is showing my love and care to those who are in my life and letting it splash over on those around me.
This blog was meant to be a question, how do you measure a life? For me, just writing brought me to what I already knew. I don't want to be known for success, money, or brilliance. I just want to be known loving unconditionally, for giving those I love all that I've got. I pray that the good memories will outweigh the bad.
That would be enough for me.
#RealGurlLife