Monday, 23 January 2023

Even a stopped clock is right twice a day

 

I've been thinking about Time, recently. 

How much I appreciate Time, for one thing. 

I like how dependable it is, how it carries us along to, or away from, situations and people .. and how it dovetails with Law of Attraction so neatly that (providing we've got our vibrations sorted out), Time takes us where we want to be.

And if we don't have our vibrations sorted out? Well Time & Law of Attraction take us to some (seemingly) random places! And that can be fun & exciting. Or it can bring us to our knees in despair. 

In either case, Time always brings clarity. 

It was in one of those places of despair, a couple of years back, that I first felt the kind hand of Time on my shoulder and heard its gentle whisper saying, something like, "fret not, I can carry you through and beyond this. I am your Friend." And it was then I had the chance to look at my vibration and see the parts that needed sorting out, do so, and simply let my new Friend, Time, take me where I needed to go. 

There's a cute, yet slightly spooky story behind that. I was alone - pandemic was raging, lockdown in effect so friends & family unavailable to me, while Paul, who had lost the use of his legs due to a fast growing tumour on his spine, was in the hospital. There were surgeries. There were infections. There was a lot of touch and go .. Fucking crazy shit, man. 

One night I took it upon myself to move some furniture around in our little spare room. I was turning it into a meditation space - because when the world is FUCKING UP all around you, meditation is a life saver, believe me - and as I moved an antique clock that had not worked properly in all the years we'd had it (we didn't care, we just liked the look of the thing), it suddenly began to tick. "Huh", I thought, "I wonder .." Inserting the key to wind it, I found the previously stuck mechanism as smooth as can be. I set the time. It kept ticking. On the hour, it chimed! Beautiful Westminster chimes. I wound it weekly, and it worked like a charm. Because it was.

For the four ghastly months of that time, a couple of hours a day spent at Paul's bedside watching him fade & return, fade & return, the rest of my day and all of my nights spent locked down, alone, that clock was my companion. Tick-tock tick-tock, the sound of Time carrying me through and beyond.

A crackerjack surgeon removed the tumour from Paul's spine, fully restoring the use of his legs. The various and numerous infections didn't kill him. He was released - frail, weighing 100 lbs, ravaged with pressure sores and chemo side effects. He walked in the door, threw away his walker ("I don't need this fucking thing", he said) and although it didn't seem quite the version of reality Time had promised, yet, we were close.

And as I went to meditate that evening, the clocked was stopped. The mechanism jammed. It hasn't worked since.

Time, however, has kept its promise. We're through and - most importantly - beyond. We've gained clarity, and our vibrations are full of joy. 

So in case you've been wondering why this blog has been quiet for a while, now you know. 

And maybe it's Time to play here again.