Passing Time
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Well, today was interesting. Awhile ago I got myself into the "go with the flow" mode. Letting go of a rigid schedule de-stresses one and opens up the day for possibilities. I ended up listening to the rain (which I really didn't get enough of over the winter,) talking to friends on the phone and at the grocery store, eating a late lunch at a little gourmet place and joining a friend for a spontaneous look at our pasts, presents and futures. And someone else told me I should publish a book this year. Who knew all this when my alarm went off this morning?
Tomorrow I have things to do. Some paperwork is ready. I have photos to schedule and an article to write. Research, research. It isn't on a time table, but there is a lot I want to accomplish tomorrow. I haven't worn a watch for years, but out here clinging to a clock can be deadly--the laid back culture simply doesn't allow it. Oddly, the one thing that I noticed immediately at my parents' house was the tick-tock-tick-tock in every single room. Everywhere I went there was a clock, and I realized the sound was not only annoying, but signified time passing to me---seconds, minutes, hours, days. All I could concentrate on was the next "tick," and then the minute was gone.
Maybe I'm being over-dramatic, but the silent digital clocks at my house let me work or read or clean or listen to the surf at my own pace. If I schedule everything (and believe me, I have plenty of tasks and projects to keep me busy for the indefinite future,) then I wouldn't feel like having a day like today, where one thing led to another, and it was just as important a day as any blocked off day in my calendar.
The following photos are the last of the mid-west, representing a few hours of passing the time and visiting times past.
(below, a fabulous used book store, Paradox in Wheeling, there since 1978---note the sign)
(below, a white dove watching over Mt. Carmel Cemetery. It was sort of creepy and strange in a way.
You know how I am with birds, and this one wouldn't move from the road. It had a green band on its leg,
so it must have belonged to someone at one point. I felt sorry for it because it seemed so alone.)
Well, today was interesting. Awhile ago I got myself into the "go with the flow" mode. Letting go of a rigid schedule de-stresses one and opens up the day for possibilities. I ended up listening to the rain (which I really didn't get enough of over the winter,) talking to friends on the phone and at the grocery store, eating a late lunch at a little gourmet place and joining a friend for a spontaneous look at our pasts, presents and futures. And someone else told me I should publish a book this year. Who knew all this when my alarm went off this morning?
Tomorrow I have things to do. Some paperwork is ready. I have photos to schedule and an article to write. Research, research. It isn't on a time table, but there is a lot I want to accomplish tomorrow. I haven't worn a watch for years, but out here clinging to a clock can be deadly--the laid back culture simply doesn't allow it. Oddly, the one thing that I noticed immediately at my parents' house was the tick-tock-tick-tock in every single room. Everywhere I went there was a clock, and I realized the sound was not only annoying, but signified time passing to me---seconds, minutes, hours, days. All I could concentrate on was the next "tick," and then the minute was gone.
Maybe I'm being over-dramatic, but the silent digital clocks at my house let me work or read or clean or listen to the surf at my own pace. If I schedule everything (and believe me, I have plenty of tasks and projects to keep me busy for the indefinite future,) then I wouldn't feel like having a day like today, where one thing led to another, and it was just as important a day as any blocked off day in my calendar.
The following photos are the last of the mid-west, representing a few hours of passing the time and visiting times past.
(below, a fabulous used book store, Paradox in Wheeling, there since 1978---note the sign)
(below, a white dove watching over Mt. Carmel Cemetery. It was sort of creepy and strange in a way.
You know how I am with birds, and this one wouldn't move from the road. It had a green band on its leg,
so it must have belonged to someone at one point. I felt sorry for it because it seemed so alone.)
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