Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but youre older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought Id something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

” YEAH I MESS UP, BUT I NEVER LOOK BACK I CHOOSE TO LOOK AHEAD AND WITH MY HEAD UP HIGH TO THE SKY. I CANT FIX MY PAST, BUT I CAN FIX MY FUTURE…..”

RAUL ESCARENO.

The present its the only time that exists, the past means nothing, the future its being build with the thoughts of the present, by thinking of the past, we are actually not thinking, we are living in an unreal time when we do this. I am trying to be aware of only the present, nevertheless sometimes I dissapear and sleep in the past, but I get myself back.
I read half of the Warrior of Light 6 years ago, it meant nothing to me then; Now, its an exact description of my personality and my dream. I am on that path, and I know you are as well. We will get there.

“Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.”

-T.S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton”

Letting go of time is difficult, but possible, I think – perhaps more possible in some places than in others. I mean, there are certain places on the globe, certain destinations that we can visit, and if we stay there long enough, they seem to invite us to unhitch our minds, as well as our lives, from the concept of time. If we accept this invitation and do not resist or run away, this is where we find ourselves entering into another realm, another reality all together, where the rules we know here – the rules which define and shape reality – do not apply. A place, a space, outside of time, where all things are truly possible.

I visited such a place once. I meant to stay a week and ended up staying a year, and yet somehow, fifteen years later, that year still has not ended. Going there was easy, at least for me, at least in that period. Somehow my life was ripe for the experience. But the coming back – that was not easy. It was as though I had somehow slipped between the cracks of reality, crossed over a border where time ceased to exist in measurable quantities. Coming back was like ripping my self apart from my self. The term “culture shock” does not even begin to define the experience – not shock of the foreign culture I entered, but shock in returning to my own culture, the culture I had grown up with, a culture where the concept of time is an ever-inescapable tyrant that dictates one’s every thought and every motion.

Still now, as much as I can, I seek to escape from thinking in the past or in the future. I find that the more solidly I remain rooted in the present moment, the closer I feel to the Divine within.

Savita Vega

The past does not exist except as a memory that is constantly reinterpreted, never really capturing a ‘truth’ of that present.

I wonder about the future, though, since seers like Nostradamus and Edgar Cayce and St. John were seeing somehting.

But the point remains, the only reality is this present moment.

I look at my cell phone to check the time only to realized that each tick of each second reflects nothing except a need to remain in synch with a bus schedule, a time agreed upon that the movie starts, as a reference point for us to meet for dinner.

That tick of the second does not change the immediacy of this present moment in which I find the sum total of my life. It is only here that I can take action to realize my spiritual values, my continued health and existence, my friendships.

I find myself distracted in thought, of the future and past, and the world is colorless and soundless. It is only when I stop thinking about some place other, some time other, that the world returns to movement and color and sound and I can touch the heart of God.

Enjoy and live every moment my friends,
Nelson