Sunday, October 03, 2011— October’s fullest moon (“Hunter’s”) will rise on the 20th.
I measure the speed of passing days by the brief time between one trash pickup day and the next in a week. I seem barely to turn around before it’s time to haul out trash barrels again.
Today begins a new week. It’s when I begin imagining how quickly the next trash day will arrive. They say aging, which accustoms us greatly to normal routines, makes time feel shorter.
My current thoughts about passing time’s ups and downs is because I’m suffering through a dragging time notch. Something new in my atmosphere pounds against my perception of time.
Recently I accepted an offer for part-time work, which made me start anticipating. But the offer isn’t final until after a background check. These waiting hours drag. With less than instant full gratification, passing time equals teeth-grinding. It’s weird, that on one hand I’m busy with time seeming too short, and on the other, anticipating with time lagging and dragging.
Yesterday, I wrote about the sport of freediving and later watched freediving videos. Personally, I’d never freedive, but it’s a sport with near-magical appeal. Consider three minutes of activity that’s all-encompassing, that consumes every fiber of ones being. The action sans breathing lasts 120 seconds, and for a swimmer feels absolutely concrete, finite, real, and meaningful.
I enjoy considering time as having actual meaning. Meaningful time offsets a sense of “taking too long, and “might go wrong”. Meaningful time poo-poos too slow, above-water “three minutes of waiting without breathing”. These ideas bolster me through this time notch.
Dear Friends: The two A’s, anticipating and anxious, interfere with wholeness. Diana