Time Musings

I’m such a slouch blogger. I let time drift by and say nothing. Ideas flit into my brain, but no typing on the keyboard, and the ideas flit right back out. Plus, there’s the cloud floating t the back of my brain, whispering, You need to write about the book. Tell them what people are saying. Let them know readers are REALLY enjoying it. Still…nothing.

Here’s something: Every night, no matter where I am, I have a ritual of lighting. At the beach house, I plug in a string of fairy lights in the bedroom. It drapes a full-length mirror and pairs with two lamps I had made from bell jars. In New Orleans, I have the Sacred Palm, a seven foot tall indoor/outdoor palm. Plugged in, it glows in my front window. In the TV room (what a 1970s term), I have two original lava lamps that burble green and yellow. In Memphis, I have lamps that light with a flattened palm held above their wells.

This ritual is a way of marking time, because time needs to be marked. Otherwise, it slips into dark alleys, unseen, unheralded, only missed when it has passed. I read Marie’s blog post today about her 69th birthday. It is delightful. I am right behind her; I make 69 in December. How is that possible? Mathematics, that’s how.

I’m a member of a Zoom group where we’ve had discussions of time. Do you believe in it? It is an option, you know. We came up with the concept to explain why the leaves drop from trees, why our backs become stooped, our steps more cautious. Anything we make up, there’s a chance we’ve got at least part of it wrong. We might no longer be around when wisdom-seekers of the future realize our mistakes. Get a jump on it. Believe about time whatever you want now.

The time now comes to do my marketing duty: I’m getting texts and emails. You—friends, acquaintances, loved ones—are sharing the book with your friends, acquaintances, and loved ones you feel will enjoy it. Could you do anything nicer? You give me such confidence in my time-traveling book, that you would vouch for it that way. this actually isn’t marketing. It’s a sincere thank you. Thank you.