Something that I want more than anything is the ability to pause time. On a rainy day, to stop the droplets in their flight and see my reflection in them, walk about and around, into them even. Or snowflakes on their journey down from the sky, to examine their intricacies and to spin them about in their place. To inspect a wave in all its surging layers and rippling depths, to admire its delicacy and its strength. To get a few hours extra of sleep in the morning, when my lack of self-regulation caused another late night. I would pause time at a sunset and jump and sprint like a child; sit, look, admire the royal and extravagant display of the sky’s evening dress. I would pause time in a crowd; when people are midstep, mid-conversation, mid-worry, mid-bite, and just let them rest — be a statue for but a bit of time — as I take in the wonder and complexity of humanity. I would watch a lioness and pause time at the peak of her leap, and be able to see, captured within the suspended body; the rippling of muscles, the power of instinct and skill within her eyes. I could see what keeps her alive. I can admire her drive and passion to do so. She, at least, has a sense of purpose. I would do it to allow rest without guilt. I would pause time to get away and be alone, just for a period of time, to sort myself out, and to take a breath of relaxation. Maybe I would pause time to pretend I don’t exist, if even for just a minute or two. I would travel to places untouched, places of beauty, and simply take it in. I would give the earth time to rest and to breathe, to recover. Maybe I would do my best to try and heal it, while no one else can interfere. Maybe I would live a lifetime within my lifetime. Maybe. But above all, I would pause time during the good moments: the driving at night with music blasting or peaking a mountain or dancing in the kitchen or a hot and sleepy afternoon with no responsibilities and good friends or laughter until your sides hurt or the waves crashing on the shore or the times when you witness intense beauty. During the times when the emotion that wells up is so overwhelmingly good and is overflowing through your smile or your hug or your dance or your voice that it feels like it cannot be contained or explained. I would pause time and I would close my eyes; I would allow myself to rest in that moment and process it. To turn it over in my head, to feel it so deeply and so thoroughly that it penetrates my very soul and fills my being. To be reminded that this is what makes life so much more than just surviving. And to fully accept that this too shall end, as time marches inevitably onwards. As time slowly awakens again, sound would return and things would groggily speed up as the symphony of life returns to its intended tempo. The world cascades back into frenzied motion and the ticking of clocks and the bustling of crowds and the rushing of water and the cacophony of conversation. And so life moves on. Moves forward. And I will move with it. I promise.