Aspects of Time, Nowism of Infinity
Aspects of time. Aspects of time is the line that rolls around in mind — the beginning, three words of a peace.
Many of my words on a page start this way, a phrase awakening me from slumber, in the loading of the dishwasher, moments of interbeing the moment.
My morning ritual of hand washing yesterday, the coffee grind mountain awaiting its new water glass pour, into new glass.
Sands of time, glass shaped, transparent, temporary to the view of new ice cubes melting over new hotness.
Transitory states of matter.
Aspects of time.
I snap my fingers thrice to hold my focus. Now and here, my mind says with each snap, each word.
Aspects of time.
.
.
. The three words,
aspects of time.
Now and here.
Remember the line, while you create your iced coffee. Before it melts into time like these ice cubes in sand.
While one moment of the present overlaps into the one where I find my grandmother's pen.
Snap, snap, snap of the fingers.
While I get my notebook, filled with sweet words of two years, and find three pages free.
While I sit in the delicious silence, beyond the wall where the washing machine turns, cleaning the blanket, brightly multicolored with black tiger stripes for when we travel to family today. So there is a bit of home wherever we go.
But I’m not writing yet, no pen to paper, in the moment. No hand cramp in holding grandma’s pen in my weird way. Just mind writing aspects of time, hold the words, snap snap snap fingers, now and here.
I think of the message my mother texted of her dreamlet yesterday. Once a writer herself, in her middle of the night, she sends me her dreamlets.
Sometimes they’re surreal stories, a paragraph of ant people, or flashbacks to being late to parent teacher moments.
Yesterday it was the words —
“Dreamlet phrase:
Bring the conscious into strategy.”
Now, my mind writing has met my pen in reality. I sit in the stillness of the back porch in my white whicker chair. My grandmother’s pen, held weirdly, these words I have written, thought, and will write — aspects of time.
A coyote howls. My pen holds the moment, the spin cycle stops. I finally sip my coffee. The pack of coyotes join in the howl.
Aspects of time. Now and here. Snaps of fingers, scribbles of words in fresh pages, a brand new notebook awaits the new words of a new year.
Perhaps, my aspects of time words not poetry to be birthed in lyric lines, but these very moments of being purely present with my presence.
With the presences of this pen, these sounds.
Nowism of infinity.
The drip of new coffee, the drip of yesterday’s rain from the tree beings. The light clicking off, the light clicking on. The dawn of a new day. The sip of a new iced coffee, the wash of yesterday, the anticipation of a weekend away with family. Our travels start today.
A new year mere days away now. But here, I write the aspects of time in this notebook of mine, with the coyotes and tree beings, in the sweet stillness of this Nowism of 2023.
And in reverence for all the glorious Nowisms of 2024 to be.
Perhaps, the only words I needed to hold these moments in between the three snaps are — aspects of time, here and now.
Past present and future are Nowism aligned into infinite love.
And my thank yous to each and every one of you, for all your kindness, for all your words.
Here's to 2024. And words which will light the world in peace.
with radical love
from this now
to whenever you interbe,
🌈💜
~namaste~
