Where we spend our time
I read this pithy blog from Nicholas Bate, and it got me thinking...
Time is an illusion but a heady one, nevertheless.
We're dictated to by our habits and routines. What if we weren't?
If time is all we've got, why do we treat it so irrationally?
Despite being 52, I don't feel any wiser about the meaning of life than I did when I was 14 — my angry phase.
I know I'm spinning plates. What am I waiting for? Another wake-up call?
We're not very good at recognising the important from the urgent. What if we lived each day as if it were our last? Would that improve our level of discernment?
How much time do I have left?