But the truth is that there is always enough time. Somehow it works out. "There is a time for every purpose." I have been thinking about that passage lately, and find it to be true. I worry that I will not get enough time to myself, and then I do, just the right amount. I have no idea how some deadline will be met, or how all the details of some event will get handled, and then they get handled. It always comes together. One house empties and another house fills up. Papers get written. Bills get paid. And it doesn't all happen because I rush through life in a harried fluster moving nonstop. It happens whether I rush or whether I proceed calmly and with faith. Either way, it happens. And life happening means time for each experience, time for work, and time for play; time for being hungry and time for feeling over-full; time for laughter and silliness, and time for industrious ventures and efficient hard work, for courage and fear, for sadness and prayer, for silence and for conversation, for activity and for sleep.
When I get in trouble it's because I fail to recognize what the present time is for; I work when it's time to relax and soften and laugh, I eat when I am not hungry, I worry over doing things when I have done everything I can do and it's time to let go. I stay awake when it's time to sleep. I chatter over nothingness when it's time to be quiet, I create expectations when it's time to open and receive whatever comes, and I resist when it's time to accept.
Today, I want to get in touch with the rhythms of time. I want to recognize where I am and what the space in front of me provides, and not try to force some agenda.
I am willing to let go of my panic over time. I accept that there is enough of it, and that everything gets done and balances out in the end.
