Five Minute Friday: Slow

Sunrise reds and pinks as seen through glass.

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Slow

Go.

Time has one speed.

It’s not fast. It’s not slow.

I don’t always perceive its steady pace. One moment I’m caught up in a frenzy of activities and deadlines, and then I slide into patches of impatience and wistful waiting.

Sometimes time seems to be racing past me; sometimes it feels like it is crawling by.

But of course time has one speed.

Tick.

Tock.

I’ve been reading about Native American culture and the custom of living at peace with nature’s pace.

I envy those who try to live that way and I cringe at our culture’s pushy infringement on their ability to do so – the shameful pattern in our nation and around the world of cheating native peoples, stealing their land, raping their natural resources, and undermining their ability to live according to their own customs. Just this week we have witnessed the latest installment of this shameful pattern at Standing Rock.

Those customs often model for the rest of us how we could live in harmony with time and its one, steady speed.

Tick.

Tock.

Time has one speed.

Synchronize watches.

Mark.

Stop.

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