No, don’t worry, I am not going to go into an profound dissertation about what time is and if it even is something (I certainly don’t have enough information about it). Instead I am going to talk about a dream I had last night (being fully aware that talking about my dreams is quite narcissistic).
Anyway, we (there were others) are in something that is a mixture between a train station’s waiting room and a theater stage. I am sitting among the spectators (whether expecting a train or the play to begin is not clear) and we see a big clock, and it becomes clear that it, even if not a character in the play, is actually the one controlling them all. I point this out to the person in the next aisle and apparently the clock listened to me and gets really mad (the person to whom I spoke gets really afraid since she knows that the clock does not like people talking about what is evident (the emperor has no clothes, kind of thing). Anyway, the clock moves towards me and jumps over me and as it does, everything turns into water and I am transported into a land of dreams (now, I am dreaming and in a land of dreams, reality becomes very fussy here). I meet a man who used to be a lawyer and who is reading a book. He knows that he’ll become the character of one of the books he is reading and that will be his life (yet another layer of reality) and he is not even sure if he (and I) are already enacting one of these stories. In any case he tells me a story about actually believing in time and how it (time) turned into what he was, which was a surprise to me, since he looked just like a man (a bit like a Don Quixote look alike) but he tells me that he is not a real man, but that he is full of plush (peluche) as he does that, he pulls off his nose and the plush comes out. Simultaneously the clock (Time) realizing that this fellow is giving me more information (which is precisely what it wants to prevent) pulls me away, to apparently even more terrifying adventures, the last thing that Don Quixote (still with the plush (pink) coming out of his nose) tells me is “remember, don’t fight them (the illusions) the more you fight them, the more powerful they get, simply flow with them and you’ll be alright”. End of the dream.
Quite an advise! Of course I know that we resist persist, I also know that we empower the demons we fight while those we don’t lose their power to harm us. Moreover, loving them sweeps them off their feet and we realize as I believe Jung (or was it Campbell?) said, that a demon is an angel that we have failed to recognize.
So. time will continue presenting situations to us, dreaded dangers, great opportunities, insurmountable challenges, last chances… All as attempts to distract us from the fact that it is not real. It is one of Maya’s greatest tricks. The imminence of time. “There is no time to waste” “We have no time” Could it be that by creating such smoke screen we end up believing that in fact we don’t have enough of what truly does not exist? Is it equivalent to saying there are not enough numbers? Not enough time for what? Of course the answer is not enough time to do, accomplish, complete all the things, duties, obligations, plans, opportunities, that we are supposed to accomplish, complete, perform, comply, achieve, etc.
But is it true? Do we really have to accomplish them all? What if we don’t? (Mr. Cynic, jumps in: “Then you’ll be a mediocre, good-for-nothing, looser, and nobody like a looser”) Ouch. Quite persuasive, but is it true? (not that nobody likes a looser, but that I’d be one). Why all the fuss? Where are we going anyway? What is the hurry?
Time, I’ll be keeping and eye on you. Thanks Don Quixote!
