Time keeps on tickin' (tickin', tickin') into the future.

I shouldn't be writing this - there's no time. I don't have time to keep a blog. There are dishes to wash, classes to prepare, papers to grade, kids to help, dogs to walk - the list is exhausting, the tasks the same. Writing takes time,  and making time takes more effort. Why should I make the time to do this?

I shouldn't make the time. I already stated that. Yet here I am, tapping away while my oldest son struggles through a spelling word search, my youngest son struggles against falling asleep, my wife struggles with my youngest son's aversion to falling asleep, and I tap away. I tap meaningless words on a meaningless screen and take meaningless steps towards a goal that seems beyond my reach. Futility incarnate. Tap, tippity-click tap, tap. I shouldn't be writing this, so I'll stop for now.

And then I'll pick it back up the next day. Still, on this new day, there are tasks to complete. Still, there are other endeavors I should pursue before the clock commands me to relocate, to eat, to sleep. So why am I wasting my time with writing? The clock does not command me to write; something else entirely is in charge with that particular of my personality. And there it is - my personality and the need (not the desire) to compose. How many metaphors could I include at this point about the fabric of my being, the water of life, the comfy blanket, the drug? I'll stay away from those to simply say this: for me, writing must happen.

Others see writing as akin to exfoliating with 30-grit sandpaper or taking a nap amidst bot-fly larvae. (If you don't know what a bot-fly is, be glad.) Still others equate writing with eating unsalted grits one grain at a time or raking leaves off the lawn with a plastic fork. I understand that. But writing must happen, for me.

All of us have that in us, that need to follow a path or to compose or to build. There exists no finite list of these endeavors, nor do these same require personal sacrifices. If I had to choose between being a proper family man and writing (a false choice, to which I alluded in the opening of this piece), I would without hesitation choose the former. But there is a way to pursue whatever it is we need to pursue and still find the time for everything else. We simply need to stand up to the clock, revolt against its hegemonic push-and-pull, and do what needs to be done. Like now - I'm finishing this post because there are other tasks to accomplish. Writing must happen, and indeed it just did.

Go chase it.