Categories Meditation

“Time is like a drug;
It kills you if you have too much of it”
Time is rare.
It is taken away during the ‘businesses of living’;
Where everybody is chasing after it
So as to make it count.

Everything seems urgent:
Students are busy in school,
The youth are busy courting, and marrying,
Others are busy filling the earth as commanded,
While others are busy raising children.

Everybody is in a hurry:
Children are busy growing up.
Laborers are busy meeting the growing work demands.
Parents are busy growing old.

Some say, “Time flies”;
That “Time is like a river”,
Because one cannot touch the same water twice;
That time inevitably goes never to return.
There is no replay,
There is no rewind.

Others say, “Time does not go”;
It is infinite.
It is living things that pass away
Because they are finite.
Yet others say, “Time is like money”,
When you have it you don’t know what to do with it;
And when you don’t there’s a million things you need it for.

But I say, whether it is “Time”
Or “Living things” that fly,
What matters is our attitude
When dealing with time.
We are the navigators;
And therefore we can make piloting
Through the business of life, stress free
If we use our own strengths and talents
To run our own race;
Without comparing ourselves to others,
And without looking down on ourselves.

“Time is like a handful of sand;
The tighter you grasp it,
The faster it runs through your fingers” – Henry David Thoreau

I am an epic introvert, who quickly becomes an open book when I pen what’s in my significantly fertile mind; fertile as a result of bombardment by realities that are continuously captured by my inquisitive eyes, ears which are constantly rubbing the ground, through constant reading, and through dreaming too.

Writing provides an opportunity to ‘say’ what my unapologetic quiet mouth will not say; which not only soothes me, but also bequeaths to me a relief, a release, and a hope that the written words will change the world, even if only one person at a time.

And so should you seek, that’s where to find me; deeply tucked inside the blankets of reading, seeing, listening, dreaming, and then writing.

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