Time

A nonspatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession; an interval separting two points in this continuum; duration.
~~American Heritage Dictionary, 3rd Edition

Time is one of the most difficult concepts and yet we all learn it. We learn how to read a clock. We learn how to read and keep a calendar. We learn to accept "leap year" and other anomolies to our time keeping system. We mark time. We change time annually. We document it, follow it, wait for it to pass, use it to remember milestones in our lives, and mourn its passing or not passing, depending on our preference at the time.

In Buddhism, there is no time. There is only now. There is a now which is over and exists only in a memory and future nows which exist only in hopes or dread.

I've been thinking of time a lot in the past two weeks because every once in a while I am reminded that I have a lot of past nows and less future nows. It has nothing to do with grey hair, of which I have much. It has nothing to do with wrinkles, or not being up on the latest crazes, or not liking loud music or raucus movies. It has to do with physical limitations that didn't exist 2 years ago, or 6 months ago. It has nothing to do with being fit or not. It has to do with wear and tear, aging body parts, warn out joints, thinning skin, tired muscles.

I fell recently. Not once, but twice in 3 days. I was able to surmise how the first fall happened. The second fall I can't confidently piece together in my mind. It's been almost 2 weeks and I'm still not fully recovered. My body is healing more slowly than in the past. Bruises are still in evidence, faded but still there. The psychic pain and sense of vulnerability has healed even more slowly. I think for the first time I can imagine dying from an accident and I won't know why it took place.

There is something about the suddeness of an accident that is like no other way of dying, except maybe war or murder. I think of Todd and how suddenly he was gone. I think of John Lennon's lyric, *"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," which turned from philosophic to prophetic after his murder. I think I should make my life small. I think I should get all my papers together, throw away the garbage and destroy or get rid of everything I don't want others to have to do or see. I think I want to reduce my life to the size of a shoebox so when it is time a dumpster isn't needed to clean up my mess.

After a deep sigh I realize that I may not have the energy to do that and live my life at the same time. Time. There's that word, that concept again.

* Beautiful Boy, music and lyrics by John Lennon, all rights Lenono Music