I love life! I’m constantly squeezing in too much, rushing from pillar to post, tardily leaving the house, yelling at the kids to get in the car and buckle up and, ergo, arriving late at my destination. I only have one life (I believe) and so I plan to live it to the full.

I am endowed with two active children, an almost full-time professional job in the city, a side-line in authoring children’s books (The Guzzle Gump), a ridiculous drive to keep striving at triathlons – trying to better my time and increase the distance even though the passing years are working against me – and oh, a much maligned and neglected husband without whom I couldn’t do any of this.

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Of course there are downsides to living such a modern, hectic, demanding lifestyle. So it was a blessing on a recent team day with my YSC colleagues in Sydney to be each gifted 48 minutes to reconnect with ourselves and experiment.

Harbour Bridge

I walked down to sit by the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Initially I felt burdened with the pressure of needing to accomplish something in 48 minutes to share back with the team. I hope the following poem that I wrote during the first twenty-something minutes illustrates my transition to ultimately letting go of that and gaining a sense of appreciation and gratitude for the world around me. My 48 minutes was inspiring, insightful and relaxing. I will make time for many more.

Harbour Bridge1

Tick. Tick. Tick.
Minutes fly by.
Thoughts jumbled, competing, merging, blending,
Skirting the edge of consciousness,
So hard to grasp, despite the will.
48 minutes to stop. Be still.

48 minutes to ponder. Dwell. Percolate. Diverge.
Why then so hard?
Hard to pause, hard to slow.
Hard to sort, hard to shape.
How to use these minutes? (Anxious sigh).
Precious time; ticking, ticking by.

Decide, do, make, finish.
The drive to create is strong.
Seventeen valuable minutes already gone,
Thirty-one precious minutes left.
All for me, not to share.
What to wonder? Whether to dare?

Slowly the gentle breeze soothes and calms,
Whilst the sparkling sea ebbs and flows, lapping against the harbour steps.
I feel golden rays warming my skin and I close my eyes,
I welcome thoughts to release their grip on the edge of consciousness and happily float away.
No longer adrift, un-keeled, bereft…
Who gives a 48 minutes how many are left.

Discover more blog entries at 48 minutes.