Late

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Late edition today: dishes, a walk, and waking up late took me off schedule. Floating along, son Jacob made the tuna salad for Breakfast Club, and I have a few minutes to write to you now. Friends Allen and Eve just walked in, maybe less time than I thought. So it goes.

Time does not exist, really, there is just this typing on these keys, just now. Late is a notion invented by our mind focused on a point in thought. This point is chimera. Being present is being alive. In a certain sense, then, being in time is being asleep. Time and being are one and in this oneness, time itself, loses its meaning.

So, what happens if we are late? Are we still ourselves? Is our world still not intact? The walls don't crumble, the curtains aren't rent, and the earth doesn't open up and swallow us. We are here.

On the other hand, being prompt is essential to civilized life. Thus a problem. Solution? Plan properly when it is time to plan, be disciplined, and thoroughly be present as you "move" from one thing to another. You are your own master, always, regardless of what anyone else thinks or says, but master of yourself you must be.

Now, it it time for Breakfast Club.

A bow to each of you.