time belief

Can you see the rain coming in on the right? Spring can be so dramatic. And so welcome.

Time. I wait and wait and cannot wait for the warm lift of spring. And now: it’s here! It’s that time.

And my feeling? It’s like I’ve dropped down a rabbit hole. I’m here. The world is different. Or am I different?

Because there’s that rabbit running around with his clock around his neck. Time. Time. Time.

Did you write your email yesterday? Did you write it the day before? Did you let someone ELSE interfere with your time???

And what is time and why is it so precious? Do the flowers need a clock? Does that beaver swimming past my dock know when he passed by?

The over-importance of time was grilled into me early. As a child, I would go riding with my father every morning. The night before, I would lay out my riding clothes. At 6 o’clock, my father would wake me up. I had fifteen minutes to be dressed (for summer, winter, rain or snow), to run through the dark to the lit barn and be on my horse by 6:15. Time mattered.

For years of my adult life, I lived in Brookline. In the city, any city, time is marked. I woke up even earlier to get outside in relatively quiet.

During those years, I would love to get away to the lake, to NH, just to feel what the natural rhythms of my body might be. And to realize the inherent strength that came from listening to that wisdom. And then, back to the city.

So, time. A belief. Such a strong belief for us humans. Does it always serve us?

That’s the question.

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