time just gets away from us...

the other night i watched the last few scenes from the coen brothers remake of 'true grit'. it was enough to make me want to watch all of it- and the last line stuck with me.

'time just gets away from us.'

it does, doesn't it?

time- that thing we pay attention to- we gauge our lives by- it gets away from us.  it goes faster the older we get - which makes sense, because as we age- each section of time is proportionally less than the year before- so it seems faster- and it is faster- and it gets away from us.

i'm up here on the north shore of new england.  i'm up here in the land where time froze when i was in my transition from teen to twenty something. when my life was all about me.  when i had time- so, so much time- time i didn't even appreciate.  this was the place where i explored the ocean and read ts eliot and wrote my own bad poetry and listened to enya by candle light and drank wine coolers and smoked camel lights. it's where i spent summers dancing on lawns at 'great woods' to the music of crosby stills and nash and the jerry band, wearing hippy skirts with bells on the drawstring and soleless moccasins.  it's where i made mixed tapes and ate dunkin donuts after hours and had friends in REM cover bands.  this was the land where i fell in love hard.  fell in love even though i was young.  the land where i got married at 22, even though no one else was.  so it's strange to be back at 40- dag that sounds old. and i'm up here now with my three little kids- one who is much closer to my age when my life was here - than i am to that age now- and that is weird.

but it's really good for me to be here.  and to be here, now.

sometimes when your life is spinney and crazy and logistic-y something happens to alter your tracks- to reverse direction- to push the inner work that is needed- to force the stillness.  that is what new england is now.  it's a reminder.  a pause.  a halt and reverse.  a slow down.  it's a move that has forced me to let go of the rigamarole and embrace the now- the focus on others- the kids.  it's a move that is reminding me (in small ways) of how life in uganda will be- communal- shared- relational- slower.  and for this- this preemptive trial- i am so thankful.  it's a move that is reminding me of how things will be different- routines will have to change- things will hold different meaning.

i'm also seeing how adaptable we all are- how even zoe will be ok- besides, what are her options?

what is different is that here- i'm seeing old friends- friends that knew me when i was 18 and 20 and 22- friends that i have histories with- even if i haven't seen them in years- they know me- the time trialed and true me.  in uganda it will be new friends.  it will be people who know me as 40, as a mom, as a doctor, as a wife of 18 years.

but what i am- who i am- has time taken it away?  what has 20 years done?  anything?

tonight the sky is white and completely consistent.  there is no variation- no depth- no pockets.  and the trees i look out on are the same ones i climbed at 19.  there is a steadiness.  we are who we are- always in some ways the same.  time just gets away from us.