| By Bob Weaver
The sun sinks below the horizon out the window
of the 'executive suite' of the Hur Herald
Fading scene of farm life near Rowel's Run on Chet Dowell farm
Bell once used to call workers from the field in the Village of Hur,
Time "The wisest counselor of all." - Pericles
Time "The moving image of eternity." - Plato
Time "The soul of the world." - Plutarch
By Bob Weaver
New Years, unlike most holidays, is based on Time - the calendar, the clock
and our human connection. New Years is a Time of reflection and doubt, a
Time for what might have been.
The holiday is connecting to invisible Time.
A Time for celebrating life's victories, being
disillusioned about its' failures.
A Time to start over.
One more Time.
Time stood still.
Not enough Time.
Time waits for no man.
Time's a'wastin.
A place in Time.
One day at a Time.
Managing Time.
Timelines.
Taking Time.
Time for change.
Time marches on.
Time will pass you by.
Time in a bottle.
A Time to remember.
Time goes on forever.
Time to begin.
Time ran out.
It is Time.
Returning to country life and Sunny Cal 18 years ago, I thought it
important to break the sense of Time as a taskmaster, sit on the front
porch at Hur, silently gaze down Rowels Run and across the hills at
Rattlesnake Knob.
That has not happened, enough.
Fifty years ago or so, life was slow in this village, so slow we would silently sit on the enclosed front porch of grandmother's house and listen to the ticking of a mantle clock, long pauses between conversation, just reflecting.
The slowing of Time in this hectic world, how difficult it is.
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is
done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun ...
It hath been already of old Time, which was before us, says
Ecclesiastes.
Caught up in rapid, self-absorbed, slicked-down living, driven by high-tech excitement, it is easy to ignore
the poets who write that Time is circular, a cycle of living and changing
rhythms, defined by the events of a place.
The future is as a return to what
has already been, day after night, life after death and the seasons after
themselves.
Crops are planted and harvested, babies born and people die. There is little
need to rush, if one believes the songwriter "All my life's a circle, sunrise
and sunset."
"Nearly all of Hur's residents from my childhood rest here,
having wrapped their shrouds about them,
their time on earth passing so quickly." - Bob Weaver, 2005
The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran, speaks of Time:
And an astronomer said, "Master, what of Time?"
And he answered.
You would measure Time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of Time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.
Yet the Timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.
And that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the
stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not
form
love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not Time even as love is, undivided and paceless?
But if in you thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons.
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.
And then the lyrical words from Ecclesiastes Chapter 3:
"To everything there is a season, and a Time to every purpose under the heaven ..."
Have a wonderful Time holiday.
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