Time

Time is a fiction of the mind. An invention of man to situate ourselves in relation to all that is happening around us.


But no one really knows the beginning of time.


Time is often perceived as a commodity; a raw material to expend. To some, it is a commodity to squander and dissipate without regard. But time is a witness to your follies and misadventures in all your lives. And it will continue to bear witness to your ignorance if you were to continue treating it with disrespect.


But time slips away when you’re not watching because it is a reluctant witness. It is made of samsara. Only realisations and the dissolution of karma will liberate time from its witness stand- the culmination of enlightenment. Until then, you are the torchbearer and the maker of time- the keeper that ensures karma continues to burn bright during your darkest hours in samsara. Your fears precipitate and fuel the beacon of time as you basked in its warmth. For a while, it is comforting to a tired soul (body). Until you realise that time doesn’t grow old as you do. It is as if time has suddenly become a co-conspirator whose role is to keep you fantabulously entertained in samsara. Your realisations are too late, your ad hockery plans are thwarted, and you’re at your wits’ end. At your last moments, your breaths shallow and gradually become still.


But time has already forgiven you. Again.


It welcomes you in its youthful embrace. You have returned, once again, to the familiar and all-encompassing samsara- the neverending state of being- where time is once again your witness. And so it goes on.


To time, which has always been our most faithful and constant companion in samsara, we offer a silent minute. It is our saviour and detractor of realisations and enlightenment- an instigator of the Truth- we are nothing without time.


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