Elapsed time is a strange thing. The whiskers on my face grow all day. You dont see them growing. However at the end of the day you can see a noticeable difference in the hair on my face. There are sunflowers in my yard; I would occasionally stop and look at them several times a day. On one day I remember glancing at them in the morning(ish). One particular flower had only birthed one pedal. As I spent my day roaming around the yard, playing with my cat and my bass, I passed said flower again. This time ten pedals had bloomed to join their single friend from earlier. Again, the slow transformation of elapsed time. Its strange.
I wonder if its an example of American impatiens. Not that one has time to sit watching whiskers grow or pedals bloom, but is there other, larger things we miss due to a lack of patience. Do I let my busy life prevent me from seeing blossoming beauty or impending danger that could be avoided? What kind of things can I cut from my life to allow me the time to learn the patience 0f the monk? Would such a monk life style be less exciting? Do we sacrifice exciting lives for peaceful and patient lives? Do I have the time to find out? Only the elapsed time of my days to come will tell.
