Plague Journal, To Take Some Time
Today is Sunday. My memory of yesterday is almost featureless. I recognize that is the aftermath of low blood sugar. Diabetics are aware of the condition. The remedy is easy under normal circumstances. Just consume something, fruit, a cookie, anything with sugar. I mention this to highlight how organic our sense of time 
is, to the normal functioning of our senses. When the mind slows, the equivalent of a “low fuel” warning light on the dash board, — the flow of time is interrupted, made erratic, one is out-of-time.
Time is something that we take for granted, pay little or no attention to. Something occurs, that compels our attention, then we “wake up,” we begin 
to appreciate that everything is involved with time. Everything is always changing, taking time.
Today is Sunday. Sunday is traditionally dedicated to reflection upon what time has brought our way over the past work week. Do we not look to the future as well, in anticipation of the immediate course of life within the river of time? I
recognize that most of my writing here treats serious topics. I am at a loss to write about anything else, for two reasons: by nature I’m introspective, interested in the patterns of things around me, and the patterns within the patterns. Additionally, sum of current events impress me as amounting to a fold point in our society, harbingers of radical change in education, in commerce, and in social relationships. What else is there to write about?
It seems necessary, and fitting on a Sunday to chose a different, a “joy-filled” subject. So, here is one more rock-n-roll tune about love. Again, I’m writing about a topic of which I know little about. I am an amateur eager to learn, and a song lyricist seems a good teacher.
With me, allow yourself to be carried away by the lush keyboards, the harmonies, and reflect upon the words. Life itself comes down to love, to having a passion for many things. Every single thing, — takes time.
*****
As well, for your pleasure, more photos of blooms in the garden.
Love Takes Time
By Orleans
I saw a twinkle in her eye
It lit a fire deep inside
But it burned so wild and strong
I knew it wouldn’t last for long
‘Cause love takes time
And it’s hard to find
You gotta take some time
To let love grow
I saw a shooting star go by
It blazed a path across the sky
But the beauty did not last, no
Some things just happen all too fast
But love takes time
And it’s hard to find
You gotta take some time
To let love grow, whoa
Well some think love’s a game
You play for a night or two
But I think that’s a shame
‘Cause I know that in the end
They’re bound to lose
Love takes time
Yes it’s hard to find
You gotta take some time
To let love grow
Oh love takes time
I said that it’s hard to find
Oh, just take your time
And love will grow
If we really want our love to grow
We gotta take it slow, whoa
Love takes time
Yes it’s hard to find
Baby love takes time
Yours and mine, whoa
Written by Larry Hoppen and Marilyn Mason
2 thoughts on “Plague Journal, To Take Some Time”
Time ! My opinion is summoned:
I have often stated that riding a motorcycle is a ‘spiritual trip’, and in the interest of brevity I won’t speak of the Buddhist teachings of ‘non – duality’ but rather, if one considers a different relationship to ‘time’ to be of the metaphysical, than riding a m/c certainly qualifies. Having raced those two wheeled rolling statements to ‘form follows function’ I can testify that this different relationship is evident. Alas that I’ve only been at the mediocre speed of 178mph (calibrated by track radar) but at such speeds the aforementioned ‘time relationship’ is experienced. Contrary to what one might anticipate, namely that all motion is frantic and disconcerting, quite the opposite is what is experienced; everything is calm and relaxed, as if rocking back and forth to a Strauss waltz (and that gift of non-duality we won’t be addressing).
I submit as further proof of my spiritual axiom that there are basically two ways to fall off a m/c, a ‘low side’, when the rear wheel goes out and one just slides merrily down the asphalt, or a ‘high side’, when the front wheel goes out (or ‘locks over’) and the ‘bike flips’ and one , not so merrily, bounces along with the bike, which is bouncing along as well, displaying (not as flexible as a human body) a spectacular display of mechanical acrobatics and disintegrating parts. Having been a participant in both, I can say with certainty that I much prefer sliding to bouncing. Falling off and sliding, even at silly speeds usually results in a bruised ego and not much more – one just picks oneself up and goes walking away (usually muttering something). A high side on the other hand is more damaging to both bike and rider – things break. Now than, what’s so spiritual about all this? Setting aside the ‘non duality’ and what can only be described as the serenity one feels while turning left and turning right, and going up or going down as elevation changes, when on the rare occasion one finds oneself bouncing, what, from an external viewpoint appears to be taking place rather rapidly, is known to the dislodged rider as a different phenomena; one will form entire thoughts through the whole affair. Complete paragraphs unfold (between bounces) in the mind about what is happening; “That wasn’t too bad”. “I wonder how much this is going to cost me?”. “Darn, I think something broke then”. “I wonder how much longer I’m going to be bouncing along, I should be done by now”. “I wonder where everyone is going for dinner?” “I hope that moron that hit my rear wheel is bouncing along as well ! Yes, even uncharitable thoughts form, unless of course the blame lays solely with oneself, then one only gets back to the “What’s for dinner inquirer?”.
Here follows the Hindu take on time that I once shared with Dr. Rocky from the U of C (much to his delight I’m sure): One breath of Brahma is equal to the amount of time it takes to wear down the highest peak in the Himalayas by dragging a piece of the finest silk across the peak once everyday (or maybe every year – I forget). This is such fun but, TIME to go.
Blessings
Time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much……….