Theres a song from one of my favorite musical movies of all time, Hans Christian Anderson, that has the refrane, Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the marigold. Seems to me youd stop and see how beautiful they are.
Sometimes I feel like that inchworm, living my life in small increments of time, or certain numbers of repetitions. This is most evident when Im swimming or jogging laps, or lifting weights, or any other boring repetitive activity. Just 5 more to go, just 3 more to go, etc. Then there are the 15-minute sections of my life that I spend waiting for my ride. With the transportation service I use, I must be ready 15 minutes early, but they are not considered late until its 15 minutes past the pick-up time. So, hurry up and wait 15 minutes, and then wait another 15 minutes before calling them to complain. It happens with days too. Just 51 days til Christmas. Just 15 days til thanksgiving. Just 2 more days til Saturday, etc. Then theres the just one more hour refrane. I play this one when Im trying not to eat between meals. If I can make it through one more hour, Ill make it til dinner. As I write this, Im thinking how in just 3 more hours, I can allow myself to be nodding off to sleep. There are countless, pun intended, ways to measure our lives away. So many more days til my birthday. So many more months til I can retire. And the beat goes on.
There are things I count because I want them over with, like repetitions of boring tasks or hours til I get to go home from a visit at my mothers assisted living, and things I count like blessings at the end of the day, and things I have to count, like money and the number of Cokes left in the fridge. When I catch myself being an inchworm, I realize that when I have finished the measurement, I will have completely missed what I was measuring.