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minutes

There are 525,600 minutes in a year.

The average life span is still right around 70 years.

That’s 36, 792,000 minutes in a lifetime.

clock

I have heard several times in the last 4 days that 2017 has gotten off to a bad start. It is generally a minute or two that hurt and injured or scared the person. The incident last briefly. The reaction echoes in their heart and head.

There is a song about how do we count the year, “Seasons of love”. It postulates that we can count in minutes, or experiences. Those experiences can be positive or negative. We can count in tears or laughter. We can count in blessings or curses.

The reality is that I count in curses much more often then blessings. I’m not an Eeyore person and tend to think of myself as a realist and not a pessimist. It was just recently that I was reviewing my life and decision. I had focused on each of my negative outcomes. I lamented and grieved over the loss and pain I had endured. I am not belittling it or making lite of it, it was horrendous. However, I wasnt looking at the simple blessings.

I have had an opportunity to learn to trust myself to respond more often then I react. The times I havent blasted someone for not being or doing like I want have been less then a minute long. Brief encounters that I pause and consider first. The ripples have allowed me to know that I can be expected to respond appropriately. That echoes in my head.

I have learned that I can love. I can feel loved and connect with another human being. I can give of myself, and receive from another. I journey with a partner, rather than pathological entanglement. The brief moment that I say the words, “I love you,” takes seconds. The heart echoes for a lifetime.

I learned that I can admit I dont know. I can also discern truth and facts. It takes minutes at most, but I can draw conclusions. I can even conclude that I need help understanding. The ability to learn and consider rebounds in my head.

I can ache, hurt, long, and cry. In those minutes of turmoil and pain, I feel it is a lifetime. It feels like forever. The clock ticks only to mock my pain. But I can feel. I am no longer cut off from emotions. In that moment of pain, I also know I can heal. My heart grows.

heart

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Posted by on January 5, 2017 in journey, life, Uncategorized

 

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time flies, time lies

time. time out, times up, wasting time, killing time, spending time, counting time, time to go, on time, more time, hurry up time, time heals, time flies….time lies. Tick Tick tock, wind me up and ring my chimes…

I have been apart from my daughters for a stretch of time. The times have changed since I was a teenager in this town. It has been some time since I divorced, moved, started a new life. It has been a short time since my ex remarried. It seems like a long time away that my life will settle down at all. New job, new career, back to school, buying a new house, new surroundings. It seems like a long time before I will see my daughters again. tick tick tock

Time doesn’t seem to heal very quickly. It does it in its’ own time. And I think it lies about the past and makes a dream out of the future. The past is corrupted in its true vision. It is either rosy or very dark. Things are either great or awful. I blame flashbacks in movies, but it is really Time. Time demands to be attended to. Time demands to be lived each moment or the moment is gone. Time is a persnickity bitch. Time creates those waves that used to be used in 70’s sitcoms to represent flashback or future visions. Those waves distort the past and future. They can be spider webs of consciousness. We can get stuck in the distorted views of past or future and ignore the wailings of Time. tick tick tock

Time lies. The waves of past and future are lies about what really happened. They are a limited view of a much broader story. IT feels real as we join in the retrogressive groove. But it is distorted and in its distortion a lie. It tells us the future or past is better or worse than the current time. In reality, it will be what it will be and is as miraculous as we make it. wind me up

Time will tell. Unfortunately, it is when time is ready to tell when it will finally tell. Time hangs out with Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda, and Oughta. The regrets and the false hopes. Time uses them to screw around with our brains and hearts. We feel guilty or apprehensive. We feel wrong and inadequate. I cannot change what happened with my marriage or my daughters. I can’t go back and erase the past, no matter how hard I try. I don’t know if my daughters will ever call me Dad again or give me a hug again, but all I can do is live in this time. Time will tell.

 
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Posted by on June 24, 2014 in journey

 

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