(Note: I seem to have inherited all my father's clocks; as a child it drove me nuts as none kept very good time and they all chimed out of sync with each other. Now I am the keeper of these crazy timepieces!)
The Time Guardian (from Oracle of the Dragonfae): You have time -
His Great Lesson is this: if we work with time, rather than trying to compartmentalize, control and define it, if we return to the lunar and solar and astronomical ways ... then the time span we have will be richer and more joyful ...
Yeah, I've drawn this card twice so far this week.
Thinking about time and my relationship with it, I've had this "doodle" page in my head: the ways we refer and relate to time (Time flying, time on my hands, running out of time, chasing time) and yesterday I started this journal page:
So of course today's Wishcasting asks: What do you wish to make time for?
I remember my first studio art class in college and the professor talking about how our experience of time will shift when engaged in making art. He discussed a Medieval versus a Modern relationship of being in time and that semester I had a vivid experience of what he was talking about. One day, I spent the afternoon at my relative's house drawing with pen and ink a still life arrangement I had set up in the front living window. Although it was almost - yikes! - 30 years ago, I can recall the immense satisfaction of being completely absorbed in my task. The light was streaming in through the glass and I was fascinated by reflections, shadows, surfaces, the distortion of water in a vase and my attempts to record what I saw on paper. That afternoon, I experienced time suspended: minutes opened up into hours and hours flew by like minutes. When the sun had finally shifted and I put my pen down, I was shocked to discover how much time had gone by. It was a deeply satisfying experience - the total absorption described by meditators - and my closest experience of pure bliss.
I rarely give or have a chunk of time that I do not need to keep track of. There are places to be, meals to be made, family routines to follow. Recently I told my husband I wished I could have one of the mornings I used to enjoy before Cowgirl's arrival: I would get up, make a pot of coffee and then crawl back into bed with my mug and my book. I would spend the morning reading and often would go drowse for a bit before finally getting up in time for lunch. Of course, the husband's response ("when did you do that?") was not what I had hoped for - "Honey, let me give you a morning this weekend; I'll walk the dog and make Cowgirl's breakfast and you can stay in bed."
What I wish to make time for is puttering time. Time to just laze and wander about and do what naturally arises without an eye or a mind to the clock. To let myself indulge in something and not feel pulled by the desire or the sense of obligation to be doing something else. Even when I am doing something I love, part of my awareness is drifting towards the next thing I want/ought/can do. What I wish for is a return to Medieval time when life just flows and I am a part of it, not fighting for mastery or control. I know all too well, the more I try to get a handle on time, the more it whups my butt.