How Many Hours in a Day?

My dad, along with a few close friends, ever so often tries to remind me that there are only 24 hours in a day.

I go through spurts when I try to fit as many possibilities into one day, hour, week (or any given time period) as possible. It isn't something I premeditate. In fact, it's almost instinctual. Or could it be habitual? All I know is that any logical and self-preserving side of my brain becomes overwhelmed with a sense of urgency that I must do A, B, C, D & ...... NOW. Simultaneously, if at all possible.

I am not sure where this instinct is rooted, or, if it is a habit, how it was formed. I had a lot of friends die before reaching 30 (hell, even 21), and I know that probably planted a "life is short and uncertain; live while you can" panic button deep in my soul. even so... i'm not sure why i put myself through this manic pattern: run, run, run until my body, mind and/or psyche force me to collapse.

today is a prime example of what i often do to myself (note: this is in no way meant to be a reflection of a "typical day" in my life. it is meant to reflect an overall pattern i keep repeating). i started my day when my alarm went off at 3:45 AM. my banjo mentor and friend, lee sexton, was having a cataract removed from his eye, and he needed a lift to the pikeville hospital. his appointment was at 6:45 AM, which meant i had to pick him up at his house at 4:45 to get him there on time. it is now 10:22 PM. i did a lot of other things today besides driving to the hospital and back, including an attempt to help neighbor bill figure out/troubleshoot the screwy lighting in my basement, writing reports/proposals, directing a kids' theater rehearsal and meeting with several different people about several different projects. the details are fuzzy, and i am resisting sleep because of this insane sense of urgency that i need to do this and that and something about getting quotes on banjo cases and/or travel banjos b/c someone might buy me a banjo for my trip to poland....

a part of me wants to keep going going going and following up on all these connections, ideas, etc. and that part of me doesn't seem to realize that there's a tomorrow. i really like this part of me. she's the kind of person you'd want to hitchhike around the world with. my sleepless gypsy. but somehow i've got to teach her the delicate art of pace and space.

the pace i'm thinking of is yoga-esque slow breathing pace. iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnn............ and ooooooouuuuuuuuuut........
the space i'm thinking of is the soft, multi-layered blissful nest that is my bed.