Sitting in his office that sunny spring day, my prof told me it — my goal of becoming a physical actor — would take time.
“It won’t happen overnight,” he warned. “You have to work at it.”
I nodded in mock patience. I told him that I could do it because I wanted it enough.
It is what I don’t have these days. And what I’ve never had enough of.
Sundays are currently my only day off and only full day at home. I have 24 hours. And it seems they all get wasted somehow. The clock ticks, the timer dings, my break is over.
Homework, rehearsals, commuting, walking from class to class. Eating, sleeping, scrolling through blogs, reading my Bible. Cleaning my room, ironing, taking a sip of freshly brewed coffee. Wondering, questioning, learning, seeing, waiting. Loving and living. This is what constitutes time.
And I wish there were more of it. Or that certain things took less time. Or something.
At the end of the day, I’m tired, worn out, fed up with the time I’ve spent, wasted, and worked.
But then, there is a different kind of time. Or a different view on it, at least.
When we wait or after a while of working towards something — after time itself has past — we start to reap time’s harvest.
A friend sits down across from me just to talk.
I finally take a risk and go with my impulses while doing a scene in Acting class. I allow myself to fail boldly and it works.
I start to feel at home with university friends. I start to open up and share, to laugh naturally, smile spontaneously, learn and love.
These are little things. Mundane acts, perhaps to you. But to me they are monumental.
Because I have been working and waiting and wanting to find them. I put the time in and I reaped the rewards of patience and work. I wanted them so badly that I was willing to wait the time it took.
And I realized that it was time all along. The friendships didn’t come in the first week and the response to impulses didn’t happen at first read. They took time. Like anything worth having would.
This is the beauty of time, I think. The hard work, perseverance, the rewards. The life we can only get from waiting weeks, months, or years.
The clock is ticking. I have homework left from last week that must be done by Tuesday. My tomorrow is full and my head is weary from the week. I feel the heaviness of the clock and the fact that there is never enough time.
Yet time, I’ve learned that time is burdensome and beautiful all at once. So, I’ll try to embrace the beauty as I go about my busy days.
Because time is a beautiful burden. We carry time like a weight from day to day, but at the end, we come to see the beauty that would not exist without the time it took to get there.
What are the beauties and burdens in your time today?