Time

Tonight, with critical deadlines looming, and every minute a precious commodity, I am taking the time to blog.  Why?  Simply because I know that, no matter what happens between now and then, I will meet the deadline.  I will have enough time.

I have met impossible deadlines many times before, deadlines I had no business meeting.  This is not the arrogance of a magic formula speaking, but the awed voice of mysterious experience.  For decades, I ascribed this good fortune to divine mercy, to the providence of God.  The divine may very well be wrapped up in the multitude of quasi-mystical phenomena around time that I have lived over the years.  In the last few years, however, I have begun to think about other possibilities.

The pattern was always eerily familiar, no matter what the occasion.  For the annual all-nighter before the dance photo shoot, I would collect my daughter's costumes in various stages of near-completion.  Some needed sequence that had to be hand-sewn, others hooks and eyes, some buttons, others hems.  With a stack of good movies and the remote control on my left, the pile of costumes in front of me, and my sewing supplies on the right, and the security of not having to go to work the next morning, I stitched, watched, and listened.  For the workshop preparations and the report cards, soft music would replace the movies.  Caught up in my favorites of the moment, I dispatched one task at a time.

Some time between 1 am and 4 am, time elasticized.  It eased and stretched like pizza dough fitting the pan.  In the darkness, someone was cutting a seam in the garment of time and inserting a piece to enlarge it.  Every time.  When I finished, at some point just before dawn, I felt like the recipient of a gift I didn't deserve but was very happy to receive.

I already understood the principle that, to speed up, you have to slow down.  Methodical deliberateness had replaced anxious rushing.   Methodical deliberateness communicates confidence.  It suggests that everything is normal, as it should be.  It is a manifestation of living from the perspective of abundance.  I have lots of time.  There is no need to rush.  I will meet my deadline.  Lisa Nichols, quoted in Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, would say that those thoughts are producing more calm and certainty because, "What you think about you bring about.  Your whole life is a manifestation of the thoughts that go on in your head."  Having confidence that there's enough time attracts more time.  Time elasticizes.

Working from the point of view of scarcity, though, produces the opposite effect.  Rushing around out of fear of running out of time, those would be my predominant thoughts, and that is what I would attract--more of not enough time.  Scarcity breeds scarcity.  Abundance leads to more abundance.

So, besides blogging tonight, I took the time to make a stir-fry for supper.  I sat at the piano for half an hour.  I exercised.  Making time for those important activities despite the looming deadlines communicates confidence that there is enough time.  I will send my work in on Friday or before.  When I do, I will stop once again for a  moment, just to bask in the wonder of the power of abundance.