I am, in a way, on fire. It’s a funny thing to say, ‘being on fire’, because someone on fire is usually running around trying to put the fire off. Crucially, this someone needs to put the fire out pretty quickly if he hopes to survive. But being on fire figuratively speaking means that you’re bursting with ideas, even when following them up requires much thought, much planning and an awful lot of attention to a rack of potential issues.
Still, I don’t mind being on fire, even though I have to sit myself down, and have to keep myself there, for an insane stretch of time. I am plotting out the workshop I am going to run in May and I am finally getting somewhere. I’ve always known what I wanted the workshop to be about, but that is quite a different thing from knowing exactly how it will unfold. And so it has been a busy week and again tomorrow is Friday and ten minutes after that it will be Monday again and so on and so forth.
It seems only five minutes since I wrote that we were careering towards the end of January and, already, Easter is around the corner. Since leaving my old job, and that’s one year and a half ago, I’ve been acutely aware of the passing of time. I don’t know whether it preoccupies me or whether it doesn’t bother me, but, yes, I’ve been realising more and more that everything is in a rush, including the ticking clock. Who knew? When I used to spend very long days holed up in the office in the city, time proceeded with the grace and speed of a geriatric tortoise; now it leaps and bounds like a young hare. You know what they say... time flies when you enjoy yourself, right? I guess it must be true.