Finally, exasperated with multiple projects that have been initiated but not completed, I set about completing what I started–a few projects. Up early and focused, I started laundry. I changed my plan to go to the car wash during the cycling of the wash, knowing how easily I would be distracted. I stayed indoors and focused. With the sheets washed and dried, the bed was remade–instead of a recent habit of setting them atop the bed with the idea to return later.
Then the rugs were tossed into the laundry and I returned inside to the project that had been the most neglected, the project on which I had procrastinated for months–sorting through mounds of bills and important documents to be filed away properly. I had moved the canvas bag that contained all these necessary items from spot to spot from time to time with the idea to return on a rainy day to complete the project. My reason for procrastination always centered on the fact that I have limited space available for storage and to put these items in proper order would mean I would have to shift things around and dispose of yet more things to carry out the task. Shortly after focusing on this canvas bag, it became clear that I had procrastinated longer than six months–the amount of time I had convinced myself had passed since my last sorting. The illusion of time in my procrastination was quite embarrassing. You see, there are no obstacles for me to return to my former self of being “together”. There is just a touch of laziness and a newly acquired taste for being more laid back. Years of being under the gun and over regulated can have that effect on you.
Within the two and a half hours of shifting, sorting, filing and purging, I did exit my confinement to move the rugs from the washer to the dryer and once more to remove the rugs from the dryer and return them inside. Interestingly enough, tiny pebbles of the rubber backing were left within the dryer. A quick clean took care of most of the mess but there is more yet to be removed. Again, the illusion of time moved me into deeper embarrassment. Have I had the rugs for so long now that they disintegrate in the dryer? Have I become one of “those” people who continue to use something long after a reasonable shelf life?
The illusion of time continued to haunt me as I returned to the shifting, sorting, filing and purging. How long has it truly been since the curtains were laundered? How long has it been since the oil was changed and the brakes replaced as the auto mechanic suggested on last inspection? When is the next premium for auto insurance due? When was the last time I exercised more than four times in a month? After all, it is mid May and there isn’t too much evidence of the resolution that was made earlier in the year to be assertive in getting healthy. Months of expired coupons also found their way in the rubbish, finally.
The illusion of time produces an ugly report card. These necessary activities of daily living are minor, to be honest, against a paradigm shift of perspective. At the end of the day when the lights are snuffed out, so to speak, and life on this earth continues to be no more, paperwork, laundry, auto care and maintenance will be insignificant details to the people we have loved and who have loved us. I was reminded of that very truth by another blog wherein the mother chose to spend precious time in unorthodox ways in a world in which micro-managed time has become a way of life.
In the illusion of time, months go by without personal contact with those for whom we profess to care. In the illusion of time, years pass and children become young adults before our vision clears enough to see them. In the illusion of time, we find ourselves in the midst of retirement or certified disability before we have realized our purpose in life. In the illusion of time, parents become frail and elderly in the blink of an eye. In the illusion of time, spouses become strangers. In the illusion of time, people cannot remember the last time they were touched or listened to in a meaningful way. In the illusion of time, we become blind to and indifferent of Love.