One Day at a Time.
Time is elusive. I need to be careful when I consider it. I can’t contain it. I can’t stop it. I can’t start it. Measuring it is an illusion. I vividly remember a meeting I attended where one of the “old-timers” announced that the meeting was his one-thousandth day; I was less than 50. For those of you who count days, you know the emotions and assumptions I believed true in that meeting on that Sunday night.
Today I went online to use one of those day calculators: 14,708. How did this happen? When did it happen? Knowing what I know now, would I go back 7,000 if I could? Would I go forward 7,000 if I could? Which day was the most important one? I could have answered these questions that night, I thought. They were serious and important! Now they are grasping wisps.
This image is my meditation poem, if you will, about time. When I know how big sharp rocks become little round ones, perhaps I will understand time.