Tempus Fugit

How many times have I heard someone say, Oh, I haven’t got the time to read! What’s implied is that those who do read have less important, less stressful lives so of course they have time to read. But we’ve all been allocated the standard twenty-four hour day, seven day week, complete with all the attendant trials and tribulations that life can throw at you. I don’t get any more time than anyone else; I just choose to spend some of that time with my head stuck in a book.

I get up early and read in bed with tea and toast before anyone else even thinks about rising. I take time out after a meal, let the digestive system work away, while I manage another chapter or even two. There’s always a book in my bag for when I’m stuck in a queue at the bank or the post office. I’ve even been known to whip out my latest read as I wait to pay for the groceries, all irritations swept away while I take myself into a world where sulky bar codes, loose change in bottomless purses and complaining voices vanish into background noise. Next? Next please??

And as my neighbours switch on their television for the evening soap opera, the familiar music piercing through our thin separating wall, I take up my book, once again, for an absorbing half hour.

As a result, my blood pressure is normal, I don’t suffer from stress, I travel the world without leaving home and I meet a multitude of different characters who entertain, inform and amuse me daily.

For something completely different, try reading The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. It’s about Henry for whom time has no relevance as he switches back and forth through the ages catching up with Claire, the love of his life, who processes time same as the rest of us ordinary mortals. It’s a love story about coping with the vagaries of time travel while the characters learn to enjoy life, with all its attendant surprises, to the full.

Why not try and make time for yourself to discover the immense pleasures of reading. It may even save your life.