i haven’t thought about time all week.
perhaps i dipped a toe or two (maybe a whole leg) into the past, but i have not looked forward, nor tried to divine the future by reading tea leaves, wetting my finger and holding it up to gauge the direction of the wind, looked out to sea for a sail breaking over the horizon, stared deeply into my crystal ball (what? you’re surprised i have a crystal ball? really, you shouldn’t be. how else do you think i am able to dig so deeply into the time(s) of my life?)
what is most impressive, to me at least, is that i have lived in the moment or for the moment, however you want to look at it, all week long. it’s not that i’ve consciously sought out the ‘now’, but at the same time, the ‘now’ has seemed to be enough for me (in a “how-now-brown-cow-kind-of-way.” which reminds me, i had a speech impediment as a child, not a stutter so much as an inability to properly pronounce certain consonants; alright, i had a lisp. my mother, wisely and presciently, sought out a speech therapist and i spent a couple of years working on overcoming said ‘disability’.)
there’s something to be said for living in the now, except for what can be said for looking backward and forward–a balance that you may spend your entire life trying to maintain. i suppose we could all take a lesson from the century plant; it seems to know the secret of maintaining its equilibrium, ignoring time entirely. for now.