I have this curious sense that time is on my side. So often we are reminded that it is not our friend – our faces start to show fines lines which deepen to wrinkles which eventually tumble into crevices that cannot be filled in; our hands weaken; our limbs shorten; the lights and brights of our eyes dim… Oh, time, we think we well know, is not only not our friend, it is our enemy, it is out to get us, waste us, destroy us, unmake us.
But, no, for the first time ever, I do not believe that. I refute it. Time is on my side.
Time has taught me patience: patience in loving and patience is forgiveness. For time is what allowed me to figure out a way to appreciate your flaws, to cherish your bristles, and love your wonders. Time was my mentor, my teacher – he (she?) took my hand and led me, without force, allowing me to saunter, to stop, to smell the fresh air, to dig my fingers and toes in the dirt, and to run run run as much as slowed and slowed and slowed, down this path towards being the person I have always wanted to be and always thought I could be but in those earliest moments, I had no idea how to become that.
Time, you see, in and of itself gives us of itself. Without time, we never change – we do not move forward or backwards, up or down; we simply just are and stay.
But with time we are granted the gift of being.
(What a wonderful blessing this thing we call time)