Why does the new year not start on the first day of spring? That would make more sense to me. And why does a day not start at sunrise instead of in the middle of the night? These markers of time are only someone’s idea of organization, a way to rationalize and measure life.
Is there really an end or are there only countless beginnings? I begin each day when I wake from a good night’s rest. My sleep is not an end, it is a different state of now – dreaming, resting, refreshing, repairing. One moment becomes the next moment without an ending. Inhale and exhale are seamless until we think about it. One foot steps forward and the other follows without even a pause, perhaps changing directions or pace, but walking is a continuous flow without an end between each step.
So also time is a continuous flow of moments, yet to make sense of it we mark it with stops and starts over and over again. The sun does not stop and start, the moon does not come and go. They are always there; it is always daylight somewhere and the moon only appears to change shape.
Another Day in Life
I began this post yesterday morning but then was distracted by other events of the day. Just another day; people coming and going, tasks to be done, a little reflection, reading and rest.
Immersed in a mystery novel, I didn’t notice the bangs and pops outside in the dark night. My son yells “Happy New Year!” from his room. Startled I reply, “Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late. Yes, happy new year.” I attend to a few promises made earlier in the evening, then continue to finish the chapter before heading off to bed. I hate to stop reading in the middle of a chapter, yet sometimes the end of a chapter is the worst place to stop as it deliberately tries to lead the reader on.
Dreams can be like that too. Unexpectedly waking from a pleasant dream and wishing myself back to sleep. Not waking from an uncomfortable dream while hoping to escape somehow. Like events of the day there is no beginning or end, just different states of consciousness.
And now it is another year I am told. We struggle to remember to write the new number. Next month another part of the world celebrates their new year based on the cycles of the moon.
Time is made of endless now. Every moment counts; a moment of thought before reacting, a moment of gratitude before anger or resentment, a moment of good deeds before complaining. A moment can change the world. Moments are not beginnings or ends but constant choices of thought, feeling and action.
Who controls the moment? Who can change the moment? Your life, your choice, the moment is yours.