The graceful pace
Plants and animals live in peaceful concord with the movement of the days and seasons, and I doubt that time stresses them out. They just live inside it.
Lupines at Sky Farm
I, on the other hand, speak as if I were able to use time, make time, kill time, and even save time. Maybe time threatens me.
A poppy at Sky Farm
At Sky Farm, I took an afternoon to reflect on the past year by looking back through my calendar.
I faced a window that opened onto a wide green meadow, oak trees, and a denser forested area about 50 yards up the hill. A flock of wild turkeys took dust baths and rested in the long grass with their heads poking up. A window to my left let in a warm, gentle cross-breeze that brought me the smell of growing things.
But! during my twenty minute march through my calendar, I didn’t once look up at or listen to or smile at any of this glory. My calendar, which is only a map, made me blind to the real landscape of time that I was living within.
I know that calendars are important, but I long to live with my calendar more gracefully, more lightly. I’d like to spend more of my life inside of time. When I look at time from the outside, it becomes my adversary.
