Yesterday I wrote a short piece for Carol Lynch Williams’ blog, Throwing Up Words (If you don’t read this blog, and you’re a writer with Utah ties, you ought to give it a shot). She’d commented earlier on the fact that time “seems to speed up these days.” I could not have agreed more, having just gone through a few weeks of family problems, personal medical issues, familial pressures, money problems . . . well, you know, the “regular stuff” we all have to deal with while also preparing, then surviving Thanksgiving, and immediately being shoved into deadlines for preparing Christmas festivities.

After I’d put my two cents’ worth in on the subject of “time” and “too much to do” within time’s available perameters, I read a Fictorians blog on “Creating the Time” by Victoria Morris. She related her comments to the “schedule” which she claims keeps their house busy, to “say the least,” and functioning within acceptable realms. She was attempting to spin the various plates above everyone’s heads: her oldest daughter’s athletic endeavors and entailed travels to various tournaments; her younger daughter’s angst about “when is it my turn?”, Victoria’s own attempts at keeping up with a “creative” life both writing and illustrating, i.e., writing and its concomitant writing “events.” Much of the time she, like so many other mothers (and probably fathers too), felt things slipping through the cracks.

Don’t we all?

To give time to one of these areas was to “rob” that time from every other endeavor. And it was the lack of balance among her most highly prized “to do” lists that had her bamboozled. Having taught full time in colleges and high schools all the time my own two off‑spring were in school, I understood and related to her frustration, sense of “not quite making it,” and angst of pitting one area in competition with all the other areas crying out for attention.

Happily, Victoria eventually came to a startling realization by looking at her immediate past year. Her older daughter had done exceptionally well in her athletic endeavors. The younger really HAD managed to have “her turn” from time to time. And, unbelievably, even Victoria had found time to write, time to draw, and even time to have something published.

“That’s when I realized,” she said, “I need to just stop worrying.”

Given time, pieces of everyone’s needs were met. The “stop worrying” gave her permission to consider that the next year would be just as successful. Even her “me time” had worked itself into her sacred “schedule.”

Like Victoria, I am a person who worries (or at least “feels bad”) about the things which are not necessarily in my control. If you are like this too, try some forgiveness.

Forgive one family member’s angst over “not having a turn” because you know it will happen eventually.

Forgive yourself for moving priorities to attack the most pressing family issues first.

Forgive yourself for making time for “YOU” when you need it most.

Forgive friends and family for demanding time when you had other plans ‑‑‑ and find ways to work around those interruptions.

And stop worrying about . . . ALL the above.

There is, as they say, a time to sow and a time to reap.

There is a time to mourn and a time to celebrate.

There is a time to love and a time to let go.

There is a time to care for friends, for family.

And there is a time to care for yourself