Flying over the Pacific Ocean from Japan to the US time, at first, goes by quickly, then slows to a veritable crawl. In the arms of a loved one time does not exist. When we are on vacation, time whisks by all too quickly, so what is time?
Why do we get so sideways about being delayed at a traffic light for a minute or two? Why do we fret arriving at a destination at a particular time throughout our travel, only to find we arrive on time, even early, so often? No amount of worry in the world will get us where we are going more quickly.
I admit freely to being someone who places a great value on arriving on time, and I want others to arrive on time as well. This tendency has resulted in being so wound-up when I arrived, or when others arrived, that I was out of sorts, crabby, even angry; and to what advantage?
I have discovered (much to the displeasure of my time-driven mind) that when I set out to a destination with sufficient time that no matter what happens along my route I arrive on time. I have discovered (controlling mind aside) that no matter how angry I might get about the delayed departure of my flight I can not get angry enough to change the circumstances. I have also discovered that when I allow myself to know that regardless of when I arrive, the Universe has made the perfect adjustments to the schedule and the most wonderful things happen.
What is time? Time is the tool we use on this planet to keep everything from happening at once. Time is not a thing in and of itself. Rather than fighting time, perhaps it would be more effective to work with time.
