Time Flyer

This morning my cat, Spaz, woke me up around 4:30. We snuggled for awhile, then she took to giving herself morning ablutions. I was awake for good, so around 5:00, I got out of bed and decided to go for a pre-dawn walk. Can I just tell you how really amazing it is to watch the sun rise, and hear the birds start their morning chorus? I've never been a morning person, but in the last couple of years, I've found myself waking up around 5:00 a.m. I usually roll over and go back to sleep, but I'm thinking maybe I need to start getting up and going for a walk every morning instead of grabbing 2 more hours of admittedly poor sleep.

As I walked the quiet streets of my little neighborhood, in that almost-light that precedes the sunrise, I thought about how perfect this summer has been, and then it dawned on me (heh) that we're already half-way through August. And I have no idea how that happened.

"Where does the time go?" We ask ourselves this question, as if time were a physical being that runs out the back door when we're not looking. But truthfully, time is a construct we create to regulate and organize our lives by. I can't help but wonder if people would be happier and healthier if we didn't count the tick-tock of the days, weeks, months, years. Of course, it would be hard to do business, but who knows, maybe an entirely new paradigm would spring up that we can't even imagine, being locked into our alarm clocks.

Perhaps time really is a very personal experience - or was meant to be so. You know that feeling when you're "in the zone" and time disappears, or stands still, depending on your personal experience. That's what I'm talking about. When you're doing something you absolutely love, or which is fully engaging you in every way, you can experience three hours as a few minutes. Likewise, if you're bored out of your freaking skull, three hours can feel like 36 hours. Why is that? The actual minutes of the day are not lengthening and shortening (as determined by the rotation of the earth and our revolution around the sun).

I've come to believe that our experience of time marks whether we are doing what we are here on earth to do. Slaving away at a menial existence where the days drag by is a clear sign that you're meant to do other things, far more fulfilling things. Or, it's a sign that you're not applying yourself 100% to what's in front of you. Sometimes it's a matter of focus.

Lately I've felt more like I'm focused on the right things, and as a result, the days of this summer have melted together in a very agreeable way. While I'm a little sad that half-way through August means autumn is around the corner, I am reminding myself to stay with the moment and not rush my experience of this time and place. The moment might be a peaceful walk before the dawn, or a drive downtown on a rainy afternoon, or cuddle time with my kitty, or a delicious mango bubble tea, or the discomfort of a swollen ankle. I think even the not-so-happy moments are to be lived with awareness, instead of wishing them away as soon as possible. Easy to say, I know.

Being able to stay more in the moment recently, instead of rehashing the past or worrying about the future, I believe I've lifted much of the stress that accompanies the rigors of life. It's created for me a whole new realm of rich openness and vast possibility. It's a nice place to live, in the moment.