.....a little blurry

Yogis,
These past two years have bent my sense of time. Days run into weeks. Weeks run into months. Months even run into years.  It has become a running joke as I close the last class of the week we all laugh at how yet again it is Thursday. Another week in the books. But Thursday doesn’t seem much different from Monday……or Wednesday……

I figured I couldn’t be the only one who had to sometimes stop and think hard about what month we are in. Then an article ran in the Washington Post on the pandemic’s distortion of our memory of time. It said that memories are created by things that stick out from the norm. Celebrations…..not happening. Large events….nope. Trips to new places…..uh no. Meeting new people……wouldn’t that be a novel idea.

Now I am noticing this time warping effect in others. I ran with a friend who has been living at their second home through this all and was back in town. Our first discussion was on how long it had been since we ran together.  After some back and forth we agreed on a year and a half (although neither of us was sure) and it was interesting to see the markers we were using. When were covid levels low enough to be getting together. Was it warm or cold out.  As she was catching me up on her kids and the summer of 2021 she had to stop and correct herself that it was actually 2020. Things were blurry. I know the feeling.

It almost seems like 2020 and 2021 were melted down and stirred together to form one long year. No distinction between the two. So far 2022 doesn’t stand out as much different.

This all got me thinking. Is it a bad thing that our vision on time has become a little blurry? Does it matter if I don’t know what year it is? I’m not so sure.

Time as seen on a clock or a calendar is a human construct. Do the ducks know that it is Sunday? Do trees set an alarm to let them know when to begin their great release? Does it matter to the stars what year it is?

I’m not saying I want to be in this state of limbo forever, but it may provide an opportunity while we are floating in it. A chance to tell time not by the big spring fair, but by taking note when the first daffodils lift their winter heavy heads to begin blooming. To have memories created not by the summer concert, but by the first time you smell fresh cut grass. To know the seasonal shift has begun when you hear the first cricket.

Let the sun tell you to begin your day as she brightens the early morning sky and let the pink streaked clouds be your reminder that it’s time to slow down and transition to evening.

Time as we know it, is an illusion. There is just now.  And then now. And then now. Each now unique. Each different from any other one you are ever going to have so you don’t want to miss it. Look up and notice this one!

The colors, the smells, the sounds, your body…..the rhythm of your own breath. Take your time. There is profound beauty and a sense of timelessness found right here.

Make a memory of this moment. It matters not in what year it happened.

The more moments you notice, the less time matters,
SARAH