What is time, anyway? I want to pinpoint this question down very narrowly because time seems to be this illusion that never stays on track. When I need time, I don’t have it; when I don’t need time, time seems to stand still. Always.
I know this sounds very metaphysical. I only ask because there are times in my life as a student when I swear someone is playing with the clock. I am amazed how all of my timepieces seem to jump ahead unanimously.
Maybe time is just an illusion. When I think of the lists of activities, responsibilities, jobs, homework, tests, and work that I have to do, I often panic, and the clock speeds up suddenly; the deadline has come and all I’ve done is worry and fret. Yet, when I engage myself in the moment, in the here and now, and find my space in the present physical form, I become a magician and time slows down.
Life moves fast. Time needs to slow down. I need to taste, touch, smell, feel, sense, and see. Already it is November and the cold air has become best friends with the rain and fog. I wake at four and I fall asleep long after eleven. Time ticks on like marching minions.
Sometimes I wake with the impressions of textbooks ingrained in my face. Sometimes I forget that I should have read more of my textbooks. Sometimes I promise myself that when I find more time I will put in more time.
Do we ever find more time?
We are at week 10. When did that happen? So, suddenly, one project has morphed into a whirlwind of activity like leaves caught up in the swirling wind.
And I take a deep breath and hold it in my chest before exhaling it slowly and looking around. I recite the objects in my mind as I count my breaths. Then I bring myself back to the moment so I can be present in my beautiful life.