At the risk of revealing my physical age, my 20-year high school reunion is happening sometime this year. I refuse to remember when, or acknowledge this fact. As time has passed, which is inevitable, and moving forward beneath our feet, (however we can control our path within that), I have learned to let go of the concrete numbers typing to a point in space.
Instead of how old are you, I ask how far do you extend? How much space lies between you and the source? Can you use time’s consistency and predictability to your advantage, and with this knowledge, make the most of it?
When this physical form runs its course, and you are faced with a decision of where to go next, time is not going to wait, but will make a decision for you, if you do not.
This field I look over stretches to reaches I am unable to see with these eyes, so I close them and leave here, passing through time, and imagine what constitutes the basic outline and form, and then I fill in this grid.
I run through the open field, through tall grasses and wild flowers, a cloud of various insects and petals is left in my wake, and while I run, I ask what I am running from. I have no answer, until the field ends at a cliff over the calm sea.
Some experiences are relished and kept within reach in the mind. Some experiences we chose to put distance and time between our present self, and at all costs, avoid the recurrence or worse, to be thrown back into that moment.
Time is a friend and foe. Time can be an ally, and time will be the death. Choose what relationship yo will have with time, and how to walk its path.
