Time. What an odd thing, if we can call it a thing at all. It gives us a convenient frame of thought. A familiar boundary within which we move with what is acceptable to our mind. We often believe we don’t have enough of it.
That’s true. And at the same time, not really.
Now, enough is another odd one. It is a relative term, whose parameters we slide back and forth according to our liking. Who’s to say what enough is? That cliché of: how much is enough? Enough by whose standard? Enough time for what?
I am not trying to be smart. It is just that my recent experiences have reiterated this to me, again and again: That we actually have enough time, but not more.
Those experiences had many unexpected twists. Rich in various ways. I was moved from one thing to another. Tasting one encounter after another, like a marathon.
In more than one occasion, I came into a situation thinking I was there to do one thing, only to find out otherwise, but just as precious, if not more.
Each occasion honed in on just one focus: what I needed to do there — experienced what I experienced, responded the way I responded, and be mindful of them.
Sometimes when I came with an intention to do A and B, happenings showed me that I was there to do only A, or, as it turned out, Z. One thing at a time. How kind.
There is no need to rush. There is no time for slacking either. For both would deny us from whatever it is we are here to witness, experience, savor and enjoy.
We can therefore advance with time. Or rather, we stay with it. Neither rushing forward, nor slacking behind. We come into a situation, be with it as much as we humanly can, and move on.
Only then we can hear the harmony, of how precious life truly is.
In the kinder words of the ever-so-beautiful Tao Te Ching:
Therefore the sage goes about doing nothing, teaching no-talking.
The ten thousand things rise and fall without cease,
Creating, yet not possessing.
Working, yet not taking credit.
Work is done, then forgotten.
Therefore it lasts forever.
The picture was taken from here.