What a weekend means

'That's what weekends are for'... is the essence of much advice given to me lately on the subject of taking a break from commitments in order to enjoy some downtime over the weekend. People trying to make it 'OK' for me to take time off while I struggle with this concept greatly, because life for me does not stop at the weekend. Life is one continuous flow of events... A week consists of seven days and time does not miraculously stand still just because it's Saturday or Sunday. Each day has as much potential as the next, and we are well within our rights to dictate how our days shall be spent. Sure, I am a great believer and advocate of balance and understanding what we need as an individual. But that's precisely it; we are all individual, so we must allow ourselves a break as and when needed, in whichever form this may take.

It's all relative. It's deemed 'socially acceptable' to leave worries and commitments aside for those two days of the week. I'm acutely aware that this is partly owing to my inability to settle for anything less than my best, but I struggle with a 'wasted day', and I'm sure I am not alone in this. Part of me would love nothing more than the ability to compartmentalize my life but something about the way I work means that this is a near impossible challenge, at least for the present moment. 

To look back and regret not making the most of the time available is perhaps one of the feelings I most fear. I think this is why I strive to fill the days, and life with as much as humanly possible, because time is a paradoxical thing. It seems momentarily to be eternally present, yet it's not; it is irreplaceable and it never, ever stops.

It is Monday now and my day has been spent mentoring at the high school I work at, and pressing on with the dissertation that was semi-neglected over the weekend. However, the weekend, I believe was balanced in a way which made sense for me. As evidenced, I cannot take the entire weekend off, but when opportunity presents itself to take an afternoon in the early summer sunshine (did I perhaps just mention the word 'summer'....?) then it seemed too right not to. We had each others company, the car, the sun was so beautiful, and we wanted nothing more than to escape just for an afternoon. Nothing in this world is perfect, but very few things could prove imperfections to exist. As I said; time is momentarily eternal.