Having breakfast with something I created is one lovely treat that keeps telling me I’m doing the right thing. Following the correct path. I’m not just jumping on the foodie bloggers bandwagon. If I were, I would definitely force myself to post recipes way more often. I am doing what I take pleasure in. It is this certainty that makes me get my butt of the couch when I get home after work (and after working out!) to make cakes and cookies.
My family, generations of sweet-toothed individuals, almost stopped buying sweets and cookies. We live off the ones we bake. I couldn’t be prouder of myself.
These days my mind goes back to the frenzied, packed December and the end-of-the-world madness. I kept toying with the idea that I spent my life making the most out of my time, without rushing, and that, had the world actually ended, I was satisfied with the experiences I had lived so far. And then I thought: “Where would I want to be now?”. What would you have done? Who would you’ve run to? Cell phones out of the way and everything.
I answered, picturing myself. If the world had ended, I would have died having breakfast. That’s right. Breakfast is my happiness ritual.
Quite predictably, I did not actually spend December 21st having breakfast. I celebrated the event having some friends over gather over a bottle (read: a bit more) of their favorite drink and some awkward questions.
That night I did not relax until it was time to go to bed, no wonder it took me a while to cool off. And then something happened. As 2012 was quickly and confusedly coming to an end, I couldn’t help to feel relieved and yet, something was not quite right. I kept feeling like I spent the remainings of last year running against time and without being fully concentrated, rather just going by.
Usually, I want to make the most out of my time, even if it implies laying on the couch just reading a book or having a pleasant, flowing, conversation. I want to feel I am doing what I want to do. I know it’s unrealistic to have such an expectation. At times like these, time is gold. We get paid for the time we spend at the office. Well, in most companies. If we work freelance, we mostly get paid on an hourly basis. Hence, time is luxury.
That’s why I love breakfast and I have always thought that who doesn’t agree with me on that is not familiar with earthly pleasures. Of course, when I was in high school I had no time to spare in the early morning rush, when I woke up in the mornings it was always too late not to feel nautios at the mere idea of ingesting anything.
Now I simply have to get up in the morning and eat, it’s not just that it’s the first thing I need to do because my body tells me so. It is the remarkable sign of the fact that I have time and I want to spend it taking care of myself. I’ll have time to catch those last five minutes’ sleep. When I’ll be six feet under.
What is not coming along in my journey through 2013 is the sensation to be wasting time. Time flies even when you’re not having that much fun. Time flies, or should I say, passes you by, when you are not focused on where you want to get in life. This is the proper age to figure all this stuff out, society has taught us. As Muse would have it “Time is running out”. Whether it’s time left for enjoying the previously mentioned earthly pleasures, or just time left for accomplishing whatever we want to be.
This is the only lesson I am ever going to learn about the Maya-media-hype and collective mania and from two or three losses of the past year. “The problem is, we think we have time” goes the saying.
It sure is one thing I have not yet mastered, but hope to improve day by day. I am letting people I invested my time on go. And, finally, without feeling like I regret a single moment.
Acceptance, this is what they call it. Time to move on.