Missing, as I do now, the familiar comfort of resting in the recent “story” of Solstice – a sense of self-location in the vastness of space, a real reason for less, then more, daylight –
or the “story” of the Gregorian calendar, which claimed to finish an old tale, to begin a new one – I’ve been lifted into contemplation of Time and Timelessness.
Maybe it’s the always-on nature of global communications, feeling dislocated to realize people in the meeting with me were in a midsummer midnight, while I was in a winter afternoon. Maybe it’s my age, having drifted beyond most cultural yardsticks. Maybe it’s the cataclysms of climate, with seasons changing so dramatically that even the flowers appear and disappear at the “wrong” time, in the “wrong” place, if a fire or flood hasn’t carried them away. Maybe it’s the strenuous and syncopated novelty in my recent adventures, which makes time race or drag.
My happiest thought is maybe my meditative practices are having greater effect, expanding my awareness of dimensions beyond Time altogether: where Love is The Absolute, arrayed into the relative world in infinite forms.
Then when I reenter clock time, I’m newly enchanted by story, by the restfulness of being wafted along in a conceptual structure, with lyrics. En-chant-ed, listening and moving to a flow of meaning, however temporary or incomplete, sometimes able to hear the silent songs of others, wherever we all come from, within or beyond our sensorial selves, willing or receiving willy-nilly.
I wish you joy, as every moment unfolds.
Picture credit: Jackson Hendry via Unsplash