It's a strange, abstract perception of our being. Both finite and infinite at the same time.
We mark our days by time. Life events. Successes. Failures. Embarrassments. Accomplishments. Our hopes.
Clocks. Calendars. Days, weeks, and minutes. Years. Our remembrances of time.
Current events remind us that we've learned little from our time here. History repeats itself. And wise elders are reminding us to mark this time; to closely pay attention so that our recollections may provide stories and insight for future generations. If they care to know. Or care to heed.
It's a regular handmaid's tale...
This week I am reminded that time affects many things. There's never quite enough of it to do what I've planned, but there's an incredible amount of it to waste.
I retired 67 days ago. 2.2 months. 9 1/2 weeks. 1608 hours. 96,480 minutes. And I've spent 30 minutes of that time ruminating the concept of time to write this blog.
I've been deaf for 5 years. I do not want to know how many months or minutes have passed since then.
Five years is fleeting for growing children and towering trees But it is a very long time to not hear.
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