Time has a way of getting away from me. I don't tend to lose time on any kind of micro level, I tend to be pretty mindful of how time passes during my day. It's years and decades that feel like they fall through my fingers.

Well over a decade ago I started learning to play the piano. It brought me a bit of joy and it made me feel attractive at parties. But I gave up my practices to focus all my time and energy on college, dedicating myself to science. I felt like everything I did I had to give my entire being to, and there wasn't any room left at the end of any day for the keys.

I started learning again a few months ago. I've already learned a lot more than I ever would have guessed I could in such a short time. I am not dedicating my entire being to it, I mostly play around and practice for a few minutes a day when sitting at my table downstairs. I might have been much better if I'd done this over the last decade.

The other prominent thing that's gotten away from me is my own health and fitness. I used to do near daily 30-60 minute workouts, but as my depression worsened I couldn't keep up with them. And when I developed a drinking problem I gained a lot of weight and felt powerless in taking care of myself as my health problems got worse and worse.

Well about three months ago I started multiple light workouts throughout my day. A little bit of light weights in the morning for my smaller muscles, running in the afternoon after work for just a single mile, and then some heavier weights in the evening for just a couple sets. And in one summer I'm back to my original shape, maybe a little better holistically.

There are a lot of things I've let the years take from me while I was fixated on something else, usually something depressing. I've lost a lot by not doing a little. I've gained little from trying to do a lot.

There are many smaller examples of this as well, mostly videogames. I have amassed a very large collection of retrogames, and I have earnestly wished to play through each one, but have had great difficulties doing so due to my own struggles with depression keeping me languishing with familiar experiences.

One game I wanted to play was Breath of Fire III (1997) for the original Playstation. My high school English teacher recommended to me Breath of Fire II for the SNES (via emulation for both of us), and I loved it. At the time I barely noticed the horrendous translation, I was just drawn in by the colorful characters and anti-religious themes that appealed to teenager me.

I had just acquired a Playstation myself the Spring before, and I had seen Breath of Fire III in the stores generally for rather cheap. I was excited to try the next game, though whenever I was tempted to buy it, it seemed like there was something else more exciting available in the bargain bins: Final Fantasy Tactics, Metal Gear Solid, even Azure Dreams.

Years later when PSX emulation was possible, I was excited to try Breath of Fire III, but I was instead focused on Japanese exclusive SD Gundam turn based strategy games. Not too long after, I started on going to college and had no room for new games. And after that my time was consumed by depression.

Before I know it, it's over a decade later, and while perusing my retro games collection, for once not being deep in the throes of clinical depression, I see Breath of Fire III (And IV, incidentally).

I hesitated for a bit. After all, I am a very different person now. I'm not as anti-religious or anime-obsessed as I was back then. I've grown jaded with Capcom and every other video game studio. The 90's are less of an idyllic childhood to me than a pile of pleasant memories in a bowl of warm trauma.

But still, I pop it on and see if it can hold my interest. Wouldn't you know it, I find myself enthralled again, drawn into this silly world, maybe not with a kid's wide eyed optimism, but with a curiosity of craft that I've come to appreciate in media I consume now.

I have a lot of games sitting around, and probably a lot of hobbies too. I wonder if it's better to leave no items on my bucket list, or to have a few things to always look forward to, but I'll at least try my hand at holding on to this decade.