For most of us, the illness or loss of a parent will be our first encounter with death.My mother has incurable lung cancer even though she has never smoked. Oneevening, as I lay on the bed beside her, listening to her breathing and to theticking of the bedside clock, I realized for the first time that time will one day run out forus all.
I have determined to be with my mother as much as I possibly can. This is not out ofa sense of duty, but because I want to be near her, to enjoy the sound of her laughter, toreassure her and be reassured by her presence. But making the time to be with mymother has been my greatest challenge. Like almost everyone I know, I am a very busyperson. I have a husband, a boisterous four year-old son and a home to run. I also holddown a demanding job as a radio announcer at the BBC.
I permitted myself a wry smile when I arrived at work one day to be told we wouldbe doing a series exploring \"time poverty\". I've never been taken with5 the notion thatwe are time-poor. How can I--who have so many labour-saving gadgets and onlychild--have less time than my mother who had six children and no washing machine?
I put this to an American professor whose life's work is studying time poverty. Hepointed out that although I have more labour-saving devices, I try to keep my homemuch cleaner than my mother did.
We are a generation that has raised the hurdles6 for ourselves in almost every area ofour lives, he said. We are struggling to jump over them, creating schedules so packedthat we operate in a constant state of anxiety.
The analysis struck a chord I do aspire to keep my house cleaner and tidier than mymother did. I have money to spend on pictures, flowers and furniture. I am trying tocreate something perfect, and I am unhappy if there is clutter or dust. And if I'm honest,I can admit I like to show off to friends. My husband jokes that I remove all traces ofhuman life before anyone arrives.
The professor's thoughts on the impact of our working lives rang just as true Workhas become the new religion, a way to satisfy the hunger for meaning in life. We lookto work to provide us with a sense of identity and a means to secure our future. Andbecause we invest so much time in our working lives, we like to reward ourselves withmaterial things.
Frequently we spend our money before it's earned. Debt is a niggling worry at theback of our minds, keeping us chained to the work treadmill even when we crave arespite.
The same professor suggested we adopt the art of \"living in the moment\" as apossible antidote to the self-inflicted stress caused by time poverty It is a Buddhistconcept, meaning we should enjoy each moment and activity for its own sake, ratherthan try to do lots of things at once, constantly casting the mind forward to the choresahead.
After interviewing the professor that day for my show, I rushed home to take myson to an after-school group. Seeing how fired I was, my husband offered to take him tothe class, giving me an hour of free time.
I started preparing dinner and found I had half an hour left, so I thought I'd get onwith a small DIY job. Then I stopped. I thought about living in the moment and ! wentand sat on the sofa instead.
It was a fine afternoon and for the first time in the two years since we moved intoour house, I sat quite still and took in the view. We live in a village on the edge of theCotswolds, and the sunshine was drenching the toffee-coloured stone in thesurrounding hills Those 20 minutes felt like a very long time and yes, by the time myson returned I was relaxed.
Since then I have been practicing the art of living in the moment whenever I get thechance. I have cleared my schedule of nonessential tasks, postponed house and gardenplans, and turned down some prestigious extra work.
It is my mother's illness, a once-in-a-lifetime event, that is what I am concentratingon. Not once have I felt pressured or deprived of time for myself. It is my mother whois truly being robbed of time and that has cleared my mind of so much that I believe---1ly--was important.
Yesterday I sat down and watched a film.with my son--and I mean I reallywatched it. I didn't try to read a newspaper at the same time, as ! usually do. Then Iwatched over him as he drifted off to sleep, and I listened to the ticking of the clock asthe moments passed, never to be reclaimed.
There are simple things we can do to enrich our lives. The greatest danger is that inour rush to jump over the hurdles we have set ourselves, we forget that time is a finiteresource.