She was thinking of it as now (well not
today because it was in the past right now) and how it had been the
best day of her life. A simple, an easy and a best ever day. No love,
no romance, no flowers, no proper sunshine, singsongs or chattering
but just the best day. A day spent on her own, on her own terms, in
her her own time. In fact it was less than a day because that was the
way it worked out. Less than a day, mere hours and still the best day
of her life. Not even twelve hours come to think of it, just a
perfect flurry of the preening and pictures, reflections and glimpses
squashed up like a crazy slide show and compressed into a wonderful
presentation, only for her eyes. So short, so long, so parallel to
everything and yet so out of step. Metaphysically magical. She
stopped and caught that thought, the best thing ever but somehow
short (in time) but so deep in experience. Really all the measures we
use here are wrong. Stupid priests, scientists and explorers who fail
to catch the reality of reality. We see through the wrong end of some
cosmic telescope, trained on silly and unimportant things that we
have been badly educated to value, all magnified by a cruel emphasis
on time. But take that time element out and just see things for what
they are, running, crawling, lumbering along and onwards outside of
time's boundary. What a strange and open freedom that is. Life makes
more sense, eternity is far less of a pressure to plan to fill and
all lifetimes however rich or barren are removed from disappointment.
Time is over. “Now”, she said to herself, “I can relax and
simply await that next moment.”
