"Good friends, good books, and a sleepy
conscience: this is the ideal life."
Mark Twain
Remember in grade school when Wednesday finally arrived, and the count down to Friday began. Remember in high school when plans for the weekend were always priority? In college, the definition of time stretched into different meanings.
In retirement, time really appears as an illusion. Not writing dated materials or securing meetings on a calendar, it is easy to forget what day it is let alone the week. Time stretches, elongates, and shrivels like a dandelion prepared to die. It is so elastic one learns to just ride the waves and let go of any sense of contol.
Now with the COVID, life couldn't be any slower or we would just stop in place. It is in this slower version of living that one becomes attached to the birds at the feeder, ice lingering on a branch, or the elegance of the sun dipping down into the edge of the earth. It is in this space of nothingness that so much can be seen. There really are teachers surrounding us if we remain awake.
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