‘The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.’
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
‘O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
‘In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
‘In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
— W.H. Auden, As I Walked Out One Evening

January seems to be the time for planning out the year in neat blocks of time, priorities and action steps. It’s fairly easy work to define what must be done, it’s harder to actually do it. The execution of a plan is always the trick, isn’t it? Yet broken down into small enough steps, we somehow find the task more manageable. It seems there’s always enough time for the things that matter most, should we build our lives around our priorities. But time has other plans for us, should we lose our way.

Lately in my work I talk a lot of urgency. We ought to feel it in our bones, and do something about it now. It’s cliché for a reason, for it matters a great deal in said execution of plan. It’s a call to arms, really—a reminder that time flies and the wishes of today are the regrets of tomorrow. We must therefore seize what flees, as our old friend Seneca reminded us.

Later in Auden’s magical poem, he writes of wondering what we’ve missed. Wrestling with the eternal, we realize that we are not. We are but a moment’s sunlight, fading in the grass, as Chet Powers wrote and The Youngbloods made famous. It’s an unfair practice to dwell on that which has slipped from our grasp if we use the tally to embrace a helpless state of low agency, but when we use these moments to learn to be bolder in our choices now they may be just the catalyst we need. Feel the urgency yet? Carpe diem, friend. Tempus fugit.

All this is nothing but a stack of words until we do something with our time. Be bold. Be audacious. Decide what to be and go be it. Today will slip away just as all the rest have. Yet we may still do something with the hour at hand.