Here is my journal entry from yesterday.
“Thursday, April 25, 2019
I am feeling guilty because I am not as prepared to teach tomorrow’s Exegesis of Isaiah class I should be. This is nothing unusual. I live with a low-grade guilt about such things. Students think they have a monopoly on this feeling. They are mistaken.
In fact, I never, ever, have enough time to do everything I want to do. But is that necessarily a bad thing?
Perhaps not, though it often feels bad.
A friend of mine who spent several years in prison said that the worst part of prison was the boredom. Lots of time, and nothing to do.
So, I can’t do everything I want. I can’t prepare as much as I would like for the classes I teach. I can’t spend as much time with my wife as I would like. I can’t ride the Little Miami Bike Trail as often as I would like. I can’t read as many books as I would like. I can’t write as many blogs as I would like. I can’t spend as much time weeding the flower beds as I would . . . O, wait! That may be overstating my frustration with time constraints.
Perhaps that too-much-to-do-and-not-enough-time feeling should be celebrated, rather than mourned. Maybe it is only when I chafe against my time constraints, that they handcuff me and cut into my wrists. If I wear these time limitations loosely, as a reminder of my humanity and of my zest for life, then these limits may cease to be a curse. Who knows? They may even become a blessing.”
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