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Writer's pictureThomas Tittmann

Public Service Announcement: Rooooolllll…Backkkkkk…Dem…Clocks

TIME...Beginning with a 4-minute contemplative TIME OUT...we then ask...Who knows where the time goes...is it on our side...or running out...


--at the end of the post is a longer interview on living in deep time


TIME

Time stand still

I'm not looking back

But I want to look around me now

Time stand still

See more of the people

And the places that surround me

Now


Freeze this moment

A little bit longer

Make each sensation

A little bit stronger


Make each impression

A little bit stronger

Freeze this motion

A little bit longer


The wheel is turning and you can't slow down,

You can't let go and you can't hold on,

You can't go back and you can't stand still,

If the thunder don't get you then the lightning will.


Small wheel turn by the fire and rod,

Big wheel turn by the grace of God,

Every time that wheel turn 'round,

Bound to cover just a little more ground.





Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

Fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way.

Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town

Waiting for someone or something to show you the way


Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.

And you are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.

And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.




REMINDER: Rooooolllll…Backkkkkk…Dem…Clocks







Mama, well, she told me time is such a wonderful gift

You're not running out

You're really running in

Confusion clouds the heart but it also points the way

Quiet down the mind

The more the song will play


The Four Quartets – T.S. Eliot

V

What we call the beginning is often the end

And to make and end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from. And every phrase

And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,

Taking its place to support the others,

The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,

An easy commerce of the old and the new,

The common word exact without vulgarity,

The formal word precise but not pedantic,

The complete consort dancing together)

Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,

Every poem an epitaph. And any action

Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat

Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.

We die with the dying:

See, they depart, and we go with them.

We are born with the dead:

See, they return, and bring us with them.

The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree

Are of equal duration. A people without history

Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern

Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails

On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel

History is now and England.


With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling


We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

Through the unknown, unremembered gate

When the last of earth left to discover

Is that which was the beginning;

At the source of the longest river

The voice of the hidden waterfall

And the children in the apple-tree


Not known, because not looked for

But heard, half-heard, in the stillness

Between two waves of the sea.

Quick now, here, now, always--

A condition of complete simplicity

(Costing not less than everything)

And all shall be well and

All manner of thing shall be well

When the tongues of flames are in-folded

Into the crowned knot of fire

And the fire and the rose are one.




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