Time...and Place

Time echoes...

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Did you know the average echo time is ten milliseconds? I'm not sure I ever thought about it before, but now that I have--thought about it--I find it amazing. Quick. Instant gratification for anyone who has sent a shout out inside a canyon or cave or another boomerang place somewhere. How often do we get such quick responses to things we send out into the world? And would it be any more useful than the echo of our voice? No change to what we flung out there or maybe a new perspective?

Sometimes though there is no response. No action. Sometimes what we send out into the world is left to sit. And that is all it takes. A small step away becomes a mile away before you know it. It becomes a thick layer of dust on that shoebox holding whatever treasure you placed in it before sliding it onto that top shelf of your closet. Such is the way of things we neglect even when it is unintentional. Priorities change. Sometimes, in my case, mood changes. It's been about three years since I made an entry to my website's blog spot. I haven't been on my website in eons it seems, well at least three years' worth, and it took a bit of stepping up and dusting off to get the process going for accessing it today.

Time, like many things, can be forgiving. It is patient even when it seems to be anxious to move on. It is never ceasing in the big scheme of things and very limited when you take the time to pick apart the details of how time is spent. Where did it go? How was it spent? Like it is something to be grasped or commoditized. It is unique to each of us and unique to the moment. It is to be cherished but it is to be cursed as well. A dichotomy with shades of grey. I had stepped away from writing. Then, back a few years ago, I thought I was stepping back into it, but no, I did not. I am not sure this is a step into it either. Maybe just a dabbling that I am already trying to figure out. Analyze. Appreciate.

Instead of writing, I started re-reading my series after letting it go for so long. It is a strange experience knowing for a fact you wrote something but wondering where the words had come from. I always felt like my characters were living creations within my thoughts and that they drove the story. Apparently, that is true. It has been fun. I am about halfway through book two. Secrets of Time: Finding Light. Today is a rainy day and a good day for dabbling and reading. With so much complexity in the world, I think that hoping everyone can find time to dabble or read is a good sentiment. I also think that revisiting the familiar, allowing nostalgia every now and then, gives one time to regenerate and take that step out and send something new out into the world.