Day 4 - There's No Time Like the Present.
Right now, in this moment, I should be getting up. Instead I feel rooted to the spot or as though I'm strapped to the bed. I want to get up and do what I have to do but I just can't. Of course I could simply ignore what I have to do... Just as I have the last few days. Putting it off, procrastinating, thinking tomorrow will be just fine. One day won't make a difference right?
So here I am in this moment, my hair messy, my nightie crumpled, my face no doubt pale and tired. I dare not look. I have the covers half on and half off; somehow it keeps you from being too hot or too cold. I can see the sunshine streaming through the gap in the curtains. No way to hide in the dark. I manage a bodily movement and cover my eyes with my forearm and take a deep breath. Am I still in the present? Everything I just thought is in the past now. What does my future hold? How strange to be lying here, tired, immobile, a sick feeling in my stomach and just casually philosophising.
I suddenly realise that the past is not something that happened a hundred years ago. Well it is but that's not all it is. My thoughts are now in the past. How long does the present last before it becomes the past? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? There's no time like the present, the old saying goes and in this case it is correct. I should be doing what I have put off for so long. But what is the present? Once you think something then that thought is immediately in the past.
Perhaps it is better to think that something should be done in the future... The immediate future perhaps but it will be the future. Too much pressure to expect anyone to do something so taxing in the present.
Well my future awaits! So I throw back the covers and leap out of bed in one swift move. Like taking off a bandaid, it was easier to do it quickly and in one go. I head to the kitchen and without even thinking, put the kettle on and reach for a cup. I almost do what I have done every other day this past week and ignore my favourite mug, the one I feel I can no longer use. But instead, today I grab it quickly. Avoiding it was the same as avoiding the task I must perform.
As the kettle noise rises, reaching its trembling crescendo, I find myself suddenly remembering my childhood, before electric kettles. There was something quite magical about dragging a heavy kettle to the stove top and using a match to light the flame underneath. The little hat in place that would whistle ferociously once the water was at boiling point. Why were electric kettles better? Quicker perhaps? Cheaper to run? I don't know, I just know I went with the flow like everyone else. No living in the past. In the present we use electric kettles. The future? Who knows. Maybe I might buy an old fashioned one, Polish it every day as my old aunt had.
I make my tea, the heady aroma almost making me feel better, calming me slightly. I tremble though when I lift the mug and spill a little. Enough procrastination though. I need to get to it. No time for changing or a shower; I just head to my office and turn the computer on, sipping hot tea as it boots up.
I have been putting this off for so long but no more so than this morning. Philosophical conversations with myself about what constitutes the past or the present. I was somehow in my past, present and future all at once. All these clever thoughts don't change the truth that I do need to act now... If I need to see it as the future then so be it.
So I open my email program, ignore the inbox and click on the compose icon. I sip some tea, my heartbeat suddenly galloping. In my immediate future I will write and send this letter. I will, I must. So I take a deep breath and start to type, 'Dear John...'
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