A couple of mornings ago I wrote down that sentence to think about; “Time is a betrayal.” At the time I wrote it I was thinking specifically of “later” as a way of deluding myself into believing that “not right now” isn’t a cop out. I find that it usually is just that.
I’m not speaking here of time in terms of “I have an appointment at 10:00 a.m. and I need to plan to make it on time.” I’m thinking more about the things that I long for that seem to fall out of priority in the ongoing-ness of daily life. For me, those things are writing, spiritual study, music, stillness or quiet time, walking… What are the things that inspire you, that make your heart sing? Do they somehow fall into the vortex of “too busy?”
Is there really a shortage of time, or is this very prevalent notion just a cover for something else? I bet we all have had the experience of finally getting to the gym, or whatever that thing is that we haven’t been able to make time for, and being surprised to find that everything else somehow gets done, and perhaps even more easily and efficiently. Or have you ever given yourself over to a creative project that has been languishing at the bottom of the to do list and found that time suddenly disappears all together?
What if time really is just a construct of our mind, a setup that we act out in daily life as if it is an unalterable reality? There are so many references to time in the nomenclature; late, too late, early, always, forever, sometime, never and on and on. It is kind of amazing to think how completely how we see or use the concept of time influences practically every thought and certainly most actions – the very warp and weave of our lives. It bears looking into, no?’
In my study and practice of A Course in Miracles I have come to understand that I have a split mind. One side of my mind is adamantly attached to my identity as Nancy Slocum, a separate and distinct individual trying to do her best in a difficult world. The other side of my split mind holds the memory of Oneness, my home in the un-separated state of Love, or God. Whatever our chosen path or the name we have given to this memory, once it has awakened within us it recollects the experience of eternity, or timelessness, and it feels like the truth.
I have learned that, with a great deal of practice, I can sometimes view myself bustling about in the world, while I watch from that place of timelessness. I shake my head and wonder about the disparity between what I perceive and act out in my life, vs. what I know from a direct experience of something greater than myself.
I have seen that Nancy Slocum likes to feel important and seeming overly busy shores up that perception. It also becomes clear that certain things that scare me, or that I don’t want to take responsibility for, are quickly relegated to “later.” In fact, most things that seem to be hard to do, or to face, easily fall victim to “not enough time.”
Moreover, I see how resistant I am to actually giving myself what I say I want. Clearly, I am threatened by the things that are for me, that actually bring me home to that memory of all encompassing love, outside of time and space. It would appear that I’m determined to maintain my version of my separated self at almost any cost, peace and freedom be damned! And that’s why those things are squeezed out by time. That’s where it becomes a betrayal of my Self.
Even “now” is a concept of time but paradoxically, it seems the only one that can jump the confines of it. Right here, right now is the only place that I can have the experience of timelessness, the direct knowing of limitlessness, of oneness with eternal love.
I hereby take a stand for me and for you, if you so desire, to claim one hour a day from the saboteur of time. One hour to be present only in this moment. One hour to relish tasting what has seemed to be forbidden fruit, plucked away by time. One hour of freedom and adventure into Self. And we’ll see what happens. I expect to be amazed.