I have been so terribly busy lately. I am graduating soon. I will be so very happy once the three weeks of no sleep all stress days are over and I can finally breathe again. I’ve been meaning to post on YYY’s, Boy Least Likely To, Phoenix, Camera Obscura, and a few others for the longest time now, but just don’t have the time to do it properly. So, I will be taking a hiatus until I can actually make regular posts again. But, I leave you with two of my favorite things to calm and bring peace to your (chaotic) life as they often do for me.

First, a passage from Jeanette Winterson’s “Sexing the Cherry” (a book filled with magic of every kind and the most lustrous of images), on the Nature of Time:

My experience of time is mostly like my experience with maps. Flat, moving in a more or less straight line from one point to another. Being in time, in a continuous present, is to look at a map and not see the hills, shapes and undulations, but only the flat form. There is no sense of dimension, only a feeling for the surface. Thinking about time is more dizzy and precipitous.

Thinking about time is like turning the globe round and round, recognizing that all journyes exist simultaneously, that to be in one place is not to deny the existence of another, even though that other place cannot be felt or seen, our usual criteria for belief.

Thinking about time is to acknowledge two contradictory certainties: that our outward lives are governed by the seasons and the clock: that our inward lives are governed by something much less regular–an imaginative impulse cutting through the dictates of daily time, and leaving us free to ignore the boundaries of here and now and pass like lightning along the coil of pure time, that is, the circle of the universe and whatever it does or does not contain.

Outside of the rules of daily time, not to be is as exact as to be. We can’t talk about all that the universe contains because to do so would be to render it finite and we know in some way, that we cannot prove, that it infinite. So what the universe doesn’t contain is as significant to us as what it does. There will be a moment (though of course it won’t be a moment) when we will know (though knowing will no longer be separate from being) that we are a part of all we have met and that all we have met was already a part of us.

The inward life tells us that we are multiple not single, and that our one existence is really countless existences holding hands like those cut-out paper dolls, but unlike the dolls never coming to an end. When we say, “I have been here before,” perhaps we mean, “I am here now,” but in another life, another time, doing something else. Our lives could be stacked together like plates on a waiter’s hand.Only the top is showing, but the rest are there and by mistake we discover them.


Second, is a song by the lovely Jenn Grant.

MP3: Jenn Grant – Hawaii

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