Where does the time go? When we are in the thick of it, time feels so incredibly slow that we can practically hear the echo of every tick as it beats around the clock. It is often when I brew a cup that I forget, lose track of time and walk away, only to find it hours later, cold and bitter. It is when we want to treasure the moment, savor it, and make it last, that time seems to escape us. And really, what is time? Is time just a measurement of our day? Is time a way to put order to the many things that happen throughout the year? Is time a way to control the chaos of our lives? Who gets to decide what is a long time or a short time? When is a good time or a bad time? When we find ways to pass the time, hours turn into minutes, minutes turn into seconds, and before you know it, the moon has replaced the sun, the day has turned to night.
Lately I have been time sensitive–the kind of time sensitive where you feel changes brewing. It is the kind of change that keeps you up at night. It is the kind of change that preoccupies the mind–the kind of change that pulls at your heartstrings. It is the kind of change that brings wonder and excitement to what lies ahead. I not only feel these changes on the inside, I see them on the outside too. As daylight savings sets in we lose time overnight and it stays lighter later, green buds sprout from the ground, and blossoms are on the verge of erupting. In time, my sweaters will make their way to the back of my closet to hibernate for the summer.
As Bob Dylan so candidly put it, “The times they are a- changin’.” For me, this week brought the end to a long life, the birth of a new life, the send-off of a close friend, the break up of a perfect couple, and the celebration of my birthday. Dylan reminds me that change is really what is keeping track of time. Change is what leaves me wishing that I had more time, more days in the month, and more months in the year. It is weeks like this that I feel I need more time to process all the changes, and get ready for what lies ahead. However, in the end, I know that there is no time like the present and so I put the kettle on, pull out my favorite cup, and quietly recite Dylan, line by line:
“The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin.”
This cup is for Joe (I hope you have the time of your life)
and for Logan (our twenties are temporary, our friendship is forever)
