Time’s the Greatest Gift You Can Give
I’ve been musing on this, this morning. It’s almost midday as I write this, and I have been thinking on the importance of making space. Of listening. Of giving each other what we need, without having to be asked and when we are asked.
Time is a gift. It’s not something you can quantify, but it is precious. How we spend our attention and who we spend that attention on is not, and never should be, an accident. It is deliberate, purposeful. Friends, loved ones—all varying degrees of closeness, relationships evolving as they do, as they should.
Once, I gave someone time that they asked for. It was not an easy thing, but I will give the world to those I care about. This ended in heartbreak and hardship. But granting that time was still the right thing. But that doesn’t mean the outcome doesn’t haunt me in a way I can’t always predict.
Once, I asked someone for time, and they gave it—only to bristle so strangely when that period came to an end. That was a slow descent into devolving, a pulling back that was a slow ebbing. I had found my footing, and the transformation was not what they wanted. Their loss, yes, but it still hurt.
When someone asks for time, I give it. Because I know that it is precious, and I believe in giving those we care about exactly what they need. This doesn’t make it easy, but the right things rarely are. And while no one likes waiting, it is always with purpose.
It’s trite to say life is short, but it is. And time/attention is something we yield and gift and give with intention. The texts we answer and those we ignore. The calls we always pick up and those we simply…stare at the phone in horror, because oh my god, just text me, please. The letters we send, the gifts we take ages to decide on. The way we get in the car or get on a train or a plane, because someone asked or invited us to.
These things are magick. Do not think otherwise. Don’t couch them in ordinary terms, because there’s nothing ordinary about the heart, and it is the heart that shows us where we belong. Or where we hope to belong. What your heart is longing for is where you should extend yourself. This is a truth so fierce it sings like lightning. Let it illuminate your way. Let it change your feeling into something less feral, so that your courage can loosen your tongue. Shake free of the binding—and move.
What we give and who we give it to may be ordinary, but life is built in the ordinary instant. In one small choice that leads to another. One step, then a second—and you have begun a journey. And darlings, none of us will ever escape this life alive, and none of us journey through it unscathed.
But there is something to be said for the way we reach into the unknown, knowing full well what it might mean. How it might not manifest or pan out. How it might go sideways. How we might fall on our faces. But the reverse is there, too—a hand that meets ours, firmly solid ground, the miracle of flight.
Take a breath and leap.
PS If there are any typos, and I am certain there are, I do not care. I am tired from all the cooking. *sticks out tongue*
Oof. That experience of doing something that brings you closer to who you are, and someone else rejecting you for it because it doesn't meet their needs or expectations. I've been wrestling with that a bit lately. Doesn't mean I won't do it again, but it does very much suck.