It’s a peculiar thing, time. We talk about it as a constant, a drumbeat marching us forward, yet there are these mornings … mornings where it feels like the world is holding its breath, like the second hand on the clock is frozen in amber. On my dog walk this morning, I was confronted by a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the intricate tapestry of this community, the threads of connection that bind us together, the shared laughter and quiet support that make life richer and more meaningful. It’s a feeling of belonging, of being held by something larger than yourself. To scroll through and see the faces, to feel the pulse of this shared existence – it’s a gift, a precious anomaly in the vastness of the universe.
Within gratitude, there’s also the reassuring presence of loved ones, the sheer, improbable luck of health. It all feels so fragile, so perfectly balanced, that I almost fear to exhale. It’s the kind of stillness that whispers of impermanence.
Because we know, deep down, in that place where my anxieties like to gather, that this stillness is an illusion. Time is a relentless sculptor and is always at work, chipping away, reshaping. We might perceive it as static in these quiet moments, but the truth is, it’s a river, constantly flowing, carrying us along whether we’re ready or not. For example, two years will come and go in a blink. A fleeting moment, like a hummingbird’s wings against the morning light. And just like that, the landscape will shift again. The familiar contours of our lives, the things we cling to for stability – including this very community – will rearrange themselves yet again in small ways and large. The spectre of change, that shadowy figure we try to ignore, will step into the light, demanding our attention.
There’s no contract, no guarantee that what lies on the other side of that blink of time will be easy, that the path forward will be clearly marked and free of obstacles. The complexities of life, the inevitable tangles and uncertainties, will undoubtedly persist. But this, too, is part of the shared human experience. And within this community, within the bonds we’ve forged, lies a quiet strength, a collective resilience. We’ll face whatever comes, not alone, but together, navigating the unknown with the shared wisdom, the helping hands, and the unwavering support that defines who we are. We’ll figure it out, somehow. It’s what we do. It’s the quiet promise whispered in the stillness of mornings like this one. It’s the strength we get to draw from the knowledge that we are not alone in the current of time.