Time….

Time….

There’s a song from the early 1980’s — by The Alan Parson’s Project — that has lyrics that say, “Time, flowing like a river….”

I was pondering that idea the other day. It carries such a peaceful feeling to it: flowing, like a river. That has not always been my experience.

Most often, it feels more like: Time, crashing over me! Like a relentless series of waves while trying to find my feet in the chilly Pacific Ocean.

Time has always freaked me out a little bit. Even as a child. And now, as an adult, as a person living in the last half of her 50’s, as a never-married woman, as someone owned by an aging dog, as a friend who has lost cherished friends to death way sooner than expected, as a daughter whose father died very young (and has now been out-lived) and who is witnessing the aging of her mother, as all of these people that I am, I am feeling the sense of time more as a looming specter than a companion on the path.

Time can also be persnickety. There are days when it feels like I have so much time, it moves so slowly and I am surprised to discover how time I “have.”

Then, there are those other days….No time to do anything, feeling rushed, stressed, flummoxed by the lack of time, envious of those days when it feels like there’s more than enough time for everything.

And then, there’s nap time. Which is a whole other animal! Nap time is like Twilight Zone time.

There are the accidental naps. Those are the ones where I’m reading or watching something and then, suddenly, I’m waking up, never realizing that I actually fell asleep.

There are intentional naps. When Maddie (the little brown dog) and I choose to lay down and let ourselves just rest, enjoying the sweetness of the daylight streaming in through the windows.

And there are purposeful naps. Practical, necessary, timed — with an alarm.

Regardless of the kind of nap it is, it still becomes lost time. Time that just seems to slip through the fingers, with nothing to show for it.

As with all things, I am Grateful for time. Grateful for memories of happy times, the sting of sad times, the rejuvenation of quiet time, the pleasure of shared time….

I suppose time does flow like a river. Sometimes. For me, it also dances and splashes, roars and rages, quiets and stills, and even — on occasion — stops.

And, again, the layers peel away.

Time can stop in a most beautiful way: that first kiss, the moment before opening the award envelope, the first time one holds their child, the sweet moment of love shared before someone leaves.

And it can feel stopped in deeply painful ways: that last kiss, the moment of not being chosen, the day that little child leaves for college, the moment after someone is gone.

Time gifts us with beautiful opportunities. And time takes beautiful opportunities from us. It gives us cherished moments and can sometime leave us with bitter memories.

Time is — in its very essence — a trip!

Looking at photos from the last 56 years of my life, I joke that I can tell how old I am in each photo by my hair style. Time told through the choices I made with my hair.

My life has become like chapters in a surreal and bizarre road-trip-story. There are times in my life when — as I look back — I can’t believe that was me! Who WAS that girl?!?

Time is, ultimately, a teacher. It teaches patience, first and foremost. Another brilliant song comes to mind: “The waiting is the hardest part.”

It also teaches wisdom, kindness, perspective, perseverance, and courage.

So….Does it flow like a river? Ok. Maybe. If that river has moods, I suppose.

Yeah. I can go with that. I’ll sing along with that song now and just insert new lyrics:

“Time, flowing like a river (with moods)….”