Not quite there yet. Today is just the 30th. It’s funny how we devise a year – and celebrate its end and beginning at the same time. Nothing can end without something beginning at the same time. And the other way around too. This concept of the year – we know it exists in our head. Oh yes, science says the earth revolves 365 times or so – so let’s just make that a year. I wonder though if a year is that. Time has no end. Or beginning. It is ceaseless. It is formless. It is motionless. Time is the captive spirit of our restless hearts. Time is the aching wound on a wrinkled leg. Time is the last crease of a smile. Time is just a myth. Time doesn’t exist. Time is unreal. Time is. Time was. Time will be. Time never will be. Somehow, still….there is a poignant hope to time. We want time so bad that we would do anything to lose it.
I don’t know where I stand this year. It’s been such a riveting year, if I can call it so. I have seen the depths of crassness among human beings. I have had my faith tested. No. Not in religion, I never was religious. But in people. I have set aside dreams. And taken up reality. I have learned everything that I can forget. And I haven’t remembered what I should have learned. Tomorrow, I will sleep while the clock ticks over into 2011. And somehow wake up knowing that nothing much has really changed. Or has it?
To the two or so readers of this blog, my warmest thoughts for a beautiful time ahead. May this time be yours.
And I loved this poem from Shakespeare. So in tune with what I feel.
As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII [Blow, blow, thou winter wind]by William Shakespeare
Lord Amiens, a musician, sings before Duke Senior’s company
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing . . .
