Musings on Time

Dear Diary,

“The real dividing line between things we call work and the things we call leisure is that in leisure, however active we may be, we make our own choices and our own decisions. We feel for the time being that our life is our own.”

Anonymous

I woke up naturally again today, no alarm, no Radio 4, no Today programme which, much as I love it, does raise my blood pressure. Today is the last day of a couple of weeks’ annual leave/change of routine. Because I work part-time my holiday ‘extends’ even if I only take a few days off, one of the advantages I guess. Tomorrow I will be back in the library, I really love my job so no hardship there but I do love the freedom that no-work gives me. A taste of what future retirement will be like perhaps?

M and I  often try and guess the time when we don’t know it and I am usually spot-on or only a few minutes out in my estimation and this morning, just after eight o’clock was no exception. I must keep a kind of unconscious vigil on time in my brain which is rather worrying. I got to musing about the whole subject of time this morning so from now on this post is just a few random ramblings on the subject before I rise and ‘seize the day’ (or the moment).

There are gentle rains falling and I have much work still to do in the jungle - sorry garden - as most of my time off it has been raining. We could almost make hay with the garden cuttings alone. Talking of which we’ve just had a small spell of hot dry weather though and thank God, the local farmers have at last been able to finish making silage or hay and they have been working flat out. Our field has been done - my favourite time - all pollen banished now - and the dogs and I enjoyed an evening walk yesterday on the virginal grass stubbles, weaving our way through the shiny black wrapped bales of silage.

And these last few days I have found my garden again, albeit overgrown and buried amongst weeds and M has strimmed all the grass which had grown too high to mow. All my plans of clearing and creating ‘new’ flowerbeds have not come to fruition. Never mind, there is always another time, God willing.

How did I cope with time when I had ‘time off‘?

I chased time but it was always out of reach and was never letting me catch it. It has never hung on me, never been an empty vessel with me wondering how I could fill it - I have never been bored in my life - (there are always books aren’t there?). At break of day I would ask it to stretch for me so I could fill it only with pleasure, small tasks of joy rather than necessity perhaps, not chores of pain or work. I could have a spell of this, a stint of something else. I could be quiet and live only in the lull or go with the proverbial flow of soft time - have you tried this? It is truly energising. Usually chores jostled for my attention and worst of all there were those dreaded lists of ‘things to do today’ with each item fighting for dominance. Why do unpleasant tasks always weigh so heavily on our minds? - I have found it is sometimes easier to tackle them and get them out of the way first, doing them can be easier than not doing them.

Is there an angel of Time? I doubt it for Time is man-made like armies are and it marches onwards, it advances quick-time left to right and I feel and dread its linear regimentation, I crave the gentler pace. At certain times; the cooling of the day or at sunset or when I gardened or did my yoga then time became my best friend, at last she acquiesced and lay down around me, expanding in all directions, becoming at last circular which was always my Celtic soul’s unconscious intention.

How does time elapse and pass? People say ’Where does the time go?’ I would like to face them to the wall along with the clocks and live only by my own desires or be almost like the cradled infant just listening to my own body’s needs and rhythms. There are only moons and tides, the Sun and the planets, seasons and lifetimes, the future never will come but every moment is an ever-present gift to us.

I would love to rise with the dawning of the light and sleep with its fall. I would like to dream with the seasons and celebrate each of their own unique gifts. Time is just our present, it is but a moment of stillness and ‘stiller’ too if it is silent and is met with solitude.

I will sign off now; I feel that the time is right. I will try and remember each moment that life is but a dream and that we are all dreaming and creating our own lives with the energies of our thoughts. Perhaps we should dream away and not waste away each day of our all too short lives on planet Earth.

I must owe you a poem.

The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Theodore Roethke

May all your time be soft,

Bye for now,
Go mbeannai Dia duit,
Cait.