Trapped in a "detention study hall" on a Saturday morning in 1958 I stared at the clock. It was 11:45 a.m. I would be released at noon.
The second hand was traveling at a trackable pace. But, the minute hand was mired in permafrost.
At 11:47 I marveled at how long it had taken for the second hand to orbit twice.
The world is defined by time. The spirit cannot be touched by it.
So long as we fight time, time will trap us.
To live, we can't entirely let go of the world. Can we enter spiritual living nevertheless?
Eckhart Tolle's writing is like John O'Donohue's in that it is hard for me to avoid quoting either of them. O'Donohue touches spirituality with his poetry. Tolle offers us an analytical model to help understand (to the degree words can do this) how to live spiritually.
"Accept the present moment and find the perfection that is deeper than any form and untouched by time," Tolle writes.
This seems as important a concept as anything else I know. Yet, I find it confounding because it is, almost by definition, at odds with the way we have learned to live.
Tolle's writing on this subject is indistinguishable for me from the core of Christian thinking on surendering.
How can we free ourselves from depending on what happens outside of us for our happiness? We can become "friendly with the present moment."
In that 8th grade study hall, I fought the present moment. In my perceived discomfort, I launched a war against the clock.
By waging my battle against time, I fell into the central trap of life. I literally tried to control the most uncontrollable force in the world.
How can we befriend our moments of pain? Are we really supposed to tell suffering patients that they can appreciate their agony?
Caregivers are guides, not magicians and certainly not gods. Caregivers offer human help in a human world.
Yes, the spiritual world is untouched by time. And that world is only found through surrender to whatever happens in the moment.
On that Saturday morning in 1958, I hated the clock that told me it was only 11:47. Today's calendar tells me it's fifty four years later.
-Erie Chapman

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