I read a 350 paged book in a week, two weeks ago. It was so exciting. I got to enjoy the time travel that books hold. My imagination was tantalized. I was inspired to write and dream. I remembered my love relationship with books when I was younger, how I was never not reading something.
Then motherhood came knocking. Between sleep deprivation and mummy brain, I was down to reading the essentials: my bible, devotional, a few articles and my timeline. Looking back, it’s a little sad that my timeline seemed like an essential, but there’s an escapism that social media offers a new mum, especially in the dead of the night when baby won’t let go of the nipple. This was before I knew about training the baby not to fall asleep on the boob, or rather, before I learned the hard way.
Over the last three years, I have read extremely slowly. Started many books and failed to finish them. Re-started books over and over again, and settled on reading small, light books. I’ve judged many books by their covers and fonts. I’ve opened hundreds of articles on my browser, finished some and bookmarked others to finish some day.
Given the last three years, reading a novel recently was extremely exciting. I felt like I am back. I used to wonder how I would survive being a mum of two and still have time to do the things that make me happy, like reading. I remember hoping that a child came with more hours in the day, but I realized that motherhood is a lesson on time management. You learn on the job how much you can really do in twenty four hours.
Last week, I watched three episodes of a series, back to back. It was entertaining, but half way through I questioned whether it was the best use of my time. Before I became a mummy, I watched my fair share of movies and series. Then came motherhood, and a new schedule. Sleep, that I used to take for granted became a very precious commodity. My free time was used to sleep, I was newborn hazing as my hormones turned my internal climate upside down. Well, that’s a good way to explain the blues.
The past three years have taught me a lot on love and the value of time. I think now is when I am getting the hang of the intricate balance of time management. Just because I stop, doesn’t mean that time does. I looked at pictures of Ksena and Kyria yesterday, and I was just in awe of how fast they are growing. Growth doesn’t happen in one day, growth doesn’t have a birthday. It happens each and every moment, in the background of the great and the mundane. It is present even when we are passive. It never stops moving, just like time.
My prayer over the past couple of weeks has been that I will live as one who comprehends the fickleness of life. That I will understand that my days on earth are numbered and live my best life now.
When we realize just how fleeting our days are, then we release ourselves to glean from and grow in wisdom.