Time and Return

Time.

In our idea of reality, a construct…It enables us to “manage” our three-dimensional experience.

Time flies.

Contrary to the maxim, it speeds along even when we’re not “having fun,” gathering momentum as the numbers accumulate on our chronological age. 

It has been three years since my last entry here. The passage of this time has, packed into it, what feels like a lifetime of experiences: more courses, more learning, more teaching, more new people, more thoughts, more insights, more surprises. 

 The “biggie” was the passing of my beloved son, or as we are saying here, his “stepping out into his greater self.” Nonetheless, it turned my world upside down, especially watching the effects his departure has had on the rest of our family, the loss of a second sibling and child. The emotional body is an outcropping of the physical, and the physical craves its own… we miss him, as we continue to miss his sister who departed ten years previously. The craving for their physical presence never goes away…

Zachariah was 37 years old when he succumbed to lung cancer and journeyed on as a “body without organs,” a term he used in a philosophy essay of which he was particularly proud. His sister, Vanessa, was eighteen when she “stepped out”…

It is said that we all come with our own expiration dates already in place from the moment we are conceived. I’m inclined to believe that;  I once “saved” a fruit fly from drowning, only to inadvertently blow it back into a puddle of water  a minute later (as I was attempting to dry it off), thus guaranteeing its demise.

Zach was already deciding upon the nature of his own death when he was three years old. Vanessa told me repeatedly as a little girl that she did not want to grow up, that she wanted to remain my little girl forever…

But Time goes on, and our time on this planet is truly short, even if we manage to journey here for a hundred years, a blip in the history of our own little world. How many years has it taken this beautiful quartz crystal, one of my new “companions,” to assume its size and shape? How does its growth compare to my own growth and ultimate lifespan, whatever that may turn out to be? 

Time is a comparative and personal experience.

So, best get on with it before the sand (or breath) runs out.

I’m baaaaack…