Time is such a fascinating, elastic thing. We humans can think ourselves into the past, and project ourselves into the future, but have a devil of a time staying put in the present. Meditate for just ten minutes and watch the handsprings your mind does.
Ageing has made me more acutely aware of time. I said to Heather tonight as we were carefully parsing out our one-square-each of after-dinner chocolate that if we knew we were going to die tomorrow, we’d probably eat the whole bar.
Eighty-five year old, Nadine Stair wrote this poem about how she might have better used her time on earth:

I’d Pick More Daisies
If I had my life to live over,
I’d try to make more mistakes next time.
I would relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have on this trip.
I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic.
I would take more chances, I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers and watch more sunsets.
I would burn more gasoline. I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I am one of those people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I have had my moments.
And if I had it to do over again,
I’d have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else.
Just moments, one after another.
Instead of living so many years ahead each day.
I have been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute.
If I had to do it over again, I would go places and do things.
I’d travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over, I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
I would play hooky more. I wouldn’t make such good grades except by accident.
I would ride on merry-gorounds.
I’d pick more daisies.

The beauty of a life is that there really is a lot of latitude for choices.