Monday morning. The start of another week. I always wondered why Saturday and Sunday are considered the weekend yet most calendars position Sunday as the beginning of the week. What's up with that?
With the change of seasons, the shorter days and Halloween decorations popping up again, I've been thinking a lot about the ebb and flow of life, and the relentless passage of time. I was watching a group of 20 to 30 somethings at a party on Saturday and was struck with the realization that I am on the side of life where the past is longer than the future. I don't think of myself that way but the clock is in control and makes up the rules. That's why it's so sad for me to see women chase after a youth they can never recover. The surgery, injections and treatments are just an illusion; a magic trick with a predictable ending.
Some days I maximize every minute as if it's my last and other days I let time slip through my fingers. The truth is when I think about time these days, I am annoyed over the time and effort I am spending on remodeling the kitchen. It will just start it's slow, eventual march towards decay the moment we are done. I could be out in the world, instead, meeting people, seeing the sights, soaking in the world. I have to keep reminding myself that the kitchen is just as much for the friends we love to invite into our home as it is for my personal pleasure because I could fore go the latter but I dearly love the former.
Heavens, why so much self-reflection at the start of the week? Maybe it's because on Sunday, I had the experience of meditating to quartz crystal singing bowls played by a singing-bowl-master. I highly recommend it even if it does cause you to take a look at your inner clock and ponder why the minutes are ticking for you.
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