IF ONE HAD TIME!

Evening Post, Volume CIX, Issue 51, 1 March 1930, Page 20

IF ONE HAD TIME!

One of the saddest things in life is that one never has time to do the things which it would give one most satisfaction to do. Most people fritter away their lives on non-essentials, so that there is no time-left, in which to get down to. first and last things and enduring satisfactions. - ; It is all a matter of bad organisation, of course. Tho vast .majority of us will bring efficiency to bear on almost everything, except the business of living. . •■'• ••■'■'■.' I, for instance, writes Ethel Mannin in tho "Daily Mail," will look out of my bedroom window on a crisp, cold morning 'of falling golden leaves and pale sunshine,.' and smell tho goo 3 smell of leaves and bonfires ana damp earth, and think how pleasant it would bo to go for a tramp across tho common. But I. do not go, because I tell myself it would be "a wasto of time." So I go into my study, and instead spend the morning writing a lot of letters to say yes, I will be delighted to lunch, and yes, I should : love to dine, and will you' come to. dinner, and shall we "throw" a party. . . . And then I do not feel that I havo wasted time. I have attended to the business of living, I tell myself." But then, when it comes to keeping the appointments and arrangements— what satisfaction does one get? . Suddenly it all seems so futilo and such an appalling wasto of time, and by then the mornings have probably ceased to be crisp and golden. One did not avail oneself of beauty while it was therb, offering itself, and now it is gone. . .■'.' i■.■' ' -'■' It is tho !samo when the spring comes. Beforehand^ one plans all manner of bluebelling and priuirosing expeditions. But the spring comes and goes, and one has probably never seen -a bluebell growing wild or plucked ' a primrose, because on'o "'hasn't had time." But without a qualm one has wasted time on railway platforms waiting for trains to take ono to where ono didn't so very much want to go, and one has stood about aimlessly and pointlessly at-innumerable parties drinkiupl drinks one didn't like very much, and talking to people in whom ono wasn't particularly interested. One has sat thronghhours of tedium at bad plays, spent a

*'■■>' MAKING LIFE SATISFACTORY

great deal of time and energy entertaining people for whom one has no particular feeling, and who- have n<jJJ;iiig of value to givo one, neither wisdom nor wit, laughter or understanding. .. In short, one spends'so much time doing things one doesn't particularly want to do, that there is no time left in which to do tho things one wants to do and would enjoy doing. The reason why -we all spend so much time doing things wo don't very much want to do is one of tho problems of human psychology. Partly, it is that we are; convention-bound, and accept as; necessary and inevitable things which, if we stopped to think about them, would bf seen not to matter, and partly it is that very few people1 have any sense of relative values. ' But if ono had time—that is. to say, if one could but- sift values .and get doi\a to essentials—-how satisfactory lifo would be! All the books' one- has been meaning to read for so long—if only one had time. - And if one had time one would have quiet, happy evenings full of profound ! content, and rtecp satisfaction with the dear friend, who means moro to one than anyone. But one has so many other things to do, so many other people • to see, so the beloved friend is fitted in at some odd moment, while \ the people who form one's social background, but concerning whom one would not grieve if ono never saw them again, are given precious hours of life. "If one had time" one' would set to, work and make that little rockery in the shady corner of tho garden; and plant all tho bulbs one has for years dreamed of buying, so that spring , should break under every rose and fruit tree; and weed tho horbaceous border; and in some other half-hour cut oil , the dead roses. . '....' ■ . , But tho summer goes and tho weeds run riot, and the dead roses turn to tlaws. ';: . .. And so we go on and on, dreaming of the jolly things, the happy things, the satisfactory things, the worth-while things, we'd do if only wo had time. Meanwhile life ilows on—like so niuch waste water, that one regrets, yet • does not take the trouble to save. I Human beings are queer. ...