WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?
Burning tea kettles, discursive thoughts, and the search for a forgotten song. Plus: 6/15 in-person writing workshop in the Hudson Valley!
Hi everyone, and a warm welcome to all the new readers! I just learned that Resilience is in the Top 100 Rising in Culture on Substack! Whaaat? Thank you for supporting my work as a writer, however it works for you. Also! Skip to the end of the essay for details on an IRL writing workshop in the Hudson Valley on 6/15, and info on working with me 1:1, I have two spots for June. And now for this week’s tiny tale. I know I’m not the only one feeling overwhelmed, scrambled, and missing simpler, kinder times.
xx Alexa
My college boyfriend Pete’s mother, Nancy, would put water on for tea — and then forget about it. She was infamous for burning tea kettles, so every Christmas her family would get her a new one. At twenty, I found this completely nuts. How does someone forget they’ve put water on for tea, when they came into the kitchen to do just that?
Nancy had four grown children, papers to correct (she was a professor), a husband to look after, and a head full of memories, disappointments, thoughts, and dreams that I — at the beginning of my life — had no way of understanding.
But now that I’m in the middle of my life, I, too am forgetting I put the water on.
A fleck of light dances across the kitchen, and I follow it into the living room. I hear a motorcycle and am reminded of a vacation I took with a bunch of friends in Vermont, years ago.
It was before children, before phones as we now know them. I don’t know how we managed to take so much time off from our various jobs, but we decamped to a borrowed house and spent long days at the lake, wondering what we’d make for dinner. The big excitement was that a guy my friend was dating was going to stop by at the end of the week — on his motorcycle.
What would we make him for dinner?
I think of this every time I hear a motorcycle.
Mostly, I marvel at how much time we had on our hands.
Where does the time go?
And who sings that song, anyway?
The light moves to my office, and I follow it there, Googling to find the version of Where Does the Time Go my sister and I loved in high school — when we had lots of time, when I was still waiting for my life to begin.
I find a Polaroid of myself in my desk drawer. Remember those? How we had to wait for the image to develop?
Just then, I smell something burning.
Shit, I’ve done it again!
Oh, Nancy, how I judged you.
I make my tea, amazed when I find the song, and grateful that I have a family who will buy me a new tea kettle at Christmas.
Listening to the song, I can almost taste what it felt like to have time — and how it feels now, with so much of it having gone by.
A MEDITATION
May I marvel at time — it’s passing, its song.
Feel free to share a time you miss, even if it’s just a feeling. Not to get lost in nostalgia, but to remember a different, simpler way of doing things.
May you chase the light.
And may all beings be safe, happy, healthy, and FREE, especially at this moment in our world.
I’m so excited for this! If you’re in or around the Hudson Valley, join me on Sunday, June 15th from 2-5pm for my first IRL writing workshop. My friend Gretchen Jones is hosting at her gorgeous Weird Specialty Studio here in Tivoli. Bring yourself and I’ll take care of the rest.
A few spots left, grab yours here.
PS. I have two openings to work with me 1:1 in June. Hot writer summer? Book a call and let’s get you writing the thing already. This is my weird specialty! Let’s talk.
This is so lovely. Time definitely more expansive in my younger days. I remember long afternoons with friends in cafes followed by dinners together….now with a full time job and a teen, those days feel far off! 😂 And yet I feel the rush of my son’s life, and know we only have a limited number of years until he is grown. It all goes so fast.