On my 40th birthday, I was getting ready to go into the hospital to have a hysterectomy a couple days later. I wanted to celebrate in fine style, so I threw myself a party at Lafitte's in Exile on Bourbon Street. A friend of mine was a bartender there, so we got to have the party upstairs. Friends came from all walks of life, all over the state, all over the country, and there were many memorable gifts.
One might think that the male inflatable doll we dubbed Wayne (because he looked so much like Wayne Newton) who was NOT anatomically correct would have been the most memorable; but it was in fact Ron's and Wilson's gift of the book:
Time and the Art of Living by Rober Grudin
Here I was, about to have a whole month of recovery time. What in the world was I going to do with myself? This gift not only eased these times of my recovery, but encouraged my first big baby step at really looking at time and how I used (or didn't use) "time" in my life. For a 60-hour+ a week workaholic, it was full of epiphanies. I was definitely a "do-er" and NOT a "be-er."
You might ask why so many years later, I'm returning to ponder "time?" It has been an ongoing process for me and has evolved nicely over these now almost 23 years. Do the math! I'm certainly at that "pushing retirement" age, even though many of my friends would tell you that I've been semi-retired for most of these!
Having even more recent "time" epiphanies, I thought it might be fun to share those from over these oh so many years with you.
My copy of "Time and the Art of Living" quite appropriately lives at the Chatette in Cadrieu. I chuckle because it is one of my many "Books on the Beam" that I cherish. This line in the Amazon description screamed at me:
"Ultimately, it's a book about freedom--freedom from despair of the clock, of the aging body, of the seeming waste of one's daily routine, the freedom that comes with acceptance and appreciation of the human dimensions of time and of the place of each passing moment on life's bounteous continuum."
Off we go!