I have come to detest clocks. It has gotten so bad that I even avoid wearing a watch if possible (I use my phone to tell time if needed). They are a constant reminder of what I have failed to accomplish - or what I must rush towards.
Time itself - I love. I can make a single minute drag into thirty simply by living in that moment. My most favorite example is on Sunday mornings when we are all snuggled into a pile like puppies and no one has suggested pancakes for breakfast yet.
At work, time moves like lightening, leaving me longing for one more hour to get just one more thing accomplished, one more person to touch base with. I am grateful for this feeling because it makes the work day and week fly by.
I remember always wishing to be older...when I was younger. Now I feel just right. As if these are the best years. The ones I furiously try to lock down in the memory banks so that I can pull them out like treasured baubles when I am 90 and these days have passed like water over sand. And so I pledge to enjoy each second. To linger on the details of each treasured moment and each painful lesson. It's all about keeping time - even if we never truly own it.