Time is a funny thing, isn’t it?


I am a very early riser. Usually 4am or 430am and I am up starting my day. First I check emails, look at the online bank, check my children’s grades on the computer, read the news. Then after all that is finished I try to write. I like to think I use my time wisely. But this morning I am overcome by the impression of time not being fluid, but more solid. Can it ever slow down? As I ponder this question, I think once it might have.

No, I can’t really explain it, only to say once in my life it seemed thicker than normal.

My world is a world of goals all related to time. Goals for the year, goals for the month, goals for the week, daily goals, etc., etc., etc.

And I was ready to charge out to meet those goals again, but this morning my soul threw a blanket on me.

Ever since I woke up this morning an image in my brain has been inescapable. It got me thinking about time and the strange way we humans notice it. When we notice it at all.

When I wrote my first book, one that I haven’t done too much with, I wrote it all by hand in moleskin notebooks in pencil. I would write sitting in my living room or on my porch and when I look back on it I realize how much time it took. Time, that now even a few years later, seems impossible that I had.

And I keep thinking about my dog. Recently, I had to put one of my dogs down. It was very bad hip dysplasia and it was time, but this morning when I got up I keep thinking about how we used to go for walks on cold Winter nights. It was around the time I was writing the book and as we would walk I would think about the story.

For some reason, this morning I was overcome with the memory of those nights. I had a green knit hat, I haven’t seen that in years, knitted gloves and I would wear this pink and gray waterproof coat. I remember standing for a long time at the top of my street before we ended our walk. My dog would wait quietly while I ran through some plot point in my head. I remember the scent of the cold air in my nose and the how the lights of the neighbors houses looked sharper to me.

Now I realize, I was given time. I was actually given time, that I don’t know if I can ever receive again. It wasn’t a schedule change or change of season. To me it will always be a chunk of icy, cold, stillness which was there once and now is gone.


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