In The Stowaway: Stone of Tymora Series, by R.A. & Geno Salvatore, the main character Maimun is told by his mentor to complete a task within a certain amount of time. At the end of the time period, the mentor asks why Maimun has not completed the task. The young man rationalizes and argues that he had no time to do so, that his days were too busy. The mentor points out that the boy had time to work, to eat, to sleep, and to play, and yet did not complete the task.
The mentor then says, it is not about having enough time, it's about how much time you have to spare.
The hardest thing about having a passion is making time for it. We make time for work, to eat, to sleep. It's easy to say that these things necessitate the time spent doing them, and it's true, they do!
But even if you ate 6 buffet meals a day and worked over time and slept a full night's sleep (probably the least likely of the three), that wouldn't make up all the 168 hours in a week.
Where does my time go? Why do I spend so much time doing things I don't want to do and so little time doing the one thing that makes me feel more alive than anything else? As I watch my word count bar remain stagnant, I wonder: where do the hours go? Eating, sleeping, working. But where is the living? Where is the writing
Time is. How much of it will I spend not writing?
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
