Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Time for me is a 'feeling.'

Life and time have shifted their focus. When I look back over the last eighteen months, I am struck by this strange feeling re time.
I am no longer influenced by ringing bells, timetables or the ramifications of meetings. Deadlines and budgets, other than those I impose on myself, do not figure in my day.
Time is still part of my life, in a format that flows, gently measuring out doses of surety, nature, conversations and interactions with people met on a stony beach or seat at a cafe facing the street.
Time is not measured in seconds, minutes or hours that relate to real maths. For me, mornings seem to flow like a bubbly stream, disappearing over a waterfall at midday, almost before I have had my share, then settling in afternoon pools that take their time and rest before rejoining the main flow.
Time speeds up mid-afternoon, queuing up to fit the needs of the evening.
Now that we have entered the phase whereby time stretches into later evening, there are more spaces to explore, to take in gentle sunlight, on beaches, bush clad valleys and tranquil backyards, where hens and fruit trees decorate a lawn that may or may not need tending.
Time has become kind, not rushed, just accepted for what it is.

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