THE TIN MAN’S HEART IS A CLOCK

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2009

Not all moments are important, but without the strand of moments brought together by an individuals perception from one point to another… we would not understand the moment we find ourselves in now. Time stands alone as a road which lets traffic’s flow beat upon its cold stone path in a never ceasing cavalcade of parading little humans, scurrying to and fro… without the fro. In every moment we percieve to be the greatest most important moment of our lives, we find the potential and probability for a truer statement… that this too will pass. But somethings do not fade away into history. Somethings continue to haunt us, past the moment. Somethings stalk us, and remind us of their presence with the passing glance of an ex-lover or the non-chalante repose of a forgotten friend. Time always rushes us along, but the human mind steps back and remembers. With the aid of the heart, it wages a valiant battle against time and space but ultimately falls prey to the never failing spectre of an old man with hourglass in hand. But is the battle lost in the wake of an ultimate defeat? The soul says no. Resoundingly, we stand in the face of time and push to shard its cohesion. We break the rope into the strand, the strand into the fibers and own the pain and joy of every passing moment as if it stood on its own… apart from its past, in defiance of its future. How do we balance the line? How do we own the moment for what we are… finite beings caught in the ebb and flow of a vast sea which end has no percievable end or beginning? Do we own the moment and forget its context, or do we step back and away, losing the moment in the tussel of a million moments constantly collapsing one upon another, like a single page in a Tolstoy novel? 

Learning to balance in this tension, to see the layers of the design, to place your heart into the now while your mind resides within the ether is the path to learning what it means to be human… to be fragile and finite, and yet sovereign and substantial. Walking the streets of our lives we see people everyday caught in the one or the other… residing in the depths of the moment… caught in the trauma and concerns of the now or the then. They live as if they are trapped, caged by a sickness of the mind and paraded as circus freaks amongst the general population. In converse we see those who live in constant pursuit of the big picture… they long to look down upon jerusalem and call the now… theirs… because they stand above it all. Kings do not have the concerns of mere mortals… but they also easily forget the fragility within our lives. To be a human being is to be both the prince and the pauper… and to do this, we must appreciate what role time plays in our lives. 

Time gives us the ability to move past the moment to a new point, while still connecting us, anchoring us in the context of our own existence. With the connective web of time on our side, we can step away from the moment and appreciate the trauma’s that made us as construction on the road of life. We tear up what was there and build a new structure with better and more fluid ways of achieving what we long for. I’m thinking of a friend whose trauma helped to shape the now; her actions creating a resounding echo of the way she felt… the way she still feels. But time moves still, finding us in different places without catching the motion of fading events and as humanity grows in each of our souls, we begin to see the end on the horizon. A line is drawn acrossed the canvas of our personal history helping us to balance and walk and navigate through the fog of the moment. It is this time that gives me hope. The moment when a friend in the darkness becomes a companion on the tour. When we no longer walk the corridors of our minds as a labyrinth, but rather as a museum of our exploits… truths about us not presented to our friends as trauma’s but rather as time honored benchmarks in our character that have shaped us into the individuals we are today. It is a wonder how we get to that place in life where a directionless post adolescent living in the now stands in the mirror and looks into the eyes of a wise and patient man… relying on time so he can appreciate the moment. When i look at my friend, often lost in the smog of the moment, I remember that one day she too will lead her own tour… passing on her legacy and wisdom to a new generation lost in their own shadows.

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