we are all time travellers. we are all travelling in time together. we move at 60 minutes per hour 24 hours a day forever. the funny thing is that we all experience the same time differently. try standing in line for a coffee while the person in front of you hunts for exact change or sit and listen to the teacher go on and on while the clock hovers between the seconds as your head rests on your desk. or go to a show and barely get comfortable in your seat and the lights come on and you are in the street again heading for your car. or realise that it`s been ten years since you thought a similar thought about something or someone and it seems like just yeaterday.
when i`m waiting for a coffee and i`m really fortunate i will have an enjoyable conversation with someone, or i will go through an enjoyable scenario in my mind and anchor it to a touch on my arm and then keep firing off the anchor until it`s my turn to order. there`s nothing more painful than impatience and so simple to cure.
i travel back in time or forward in time, inmy mind, and my body doesn`t know the difference. i just travel.
but remember, anchor to positive feelings and the travel will be effortless.
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who was it who said, it is not time that passes but we who pass through time... either making generous use of those three little muscles, or clawing and struggling and bleeding along, tightening a fearful grasp upon past or future, all to our own deeply private purposes often seeming-secret even to ourselves.
two evenings ago I walked in the woods then down through the town under a sky whose storm-blown sunset showed NYC a medieval village among forests. the sky has changed yet I am still there or is it: the sky is still here in me. beauty too vast for words, too grand for tears.
it reminds me of the time when i stood at edinborough castle and looked out across the north sea and saw the danish longships coming, the wind filling thier sails, and i knew that they would be at our shores by night.
i gripped my sword tighter and grit my teeth and my nostrils filled with the pungent smell of fear.
are we not alive now, and for centuries before?
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