The Feast of The Epiphany, 1993
He sat slumped in his old leather chair. He was exhausted. The heaviness of his Time on earth gave his weary body a gravity that pulled him down, down, down, into the chair's cushion. Everything seemed to be pulling him down. His mind kept wandering through the events of his life, what he could recall of it. So much had happened during his lifeTime. He was now three-hundred-sixty-five days old. He had learned during his life that no one in his family had ever lived longer than that. It was with some relief, he cogitated about it all being over so soon.
His scythe stood by, leaning against the wall. It was rusty and had not been used since early November, the beginning of the eleventh month of his life. He couldn't forget that month. He was so busy with the harvest of October-November, he had not really ever gotten over it. He had felt old ever since November.
He had the gratification of knowing it had been a good harvest. Yet, it disturbed him greatly that so many in the world during his life Time were still living with insufficiency and in tragic situations. It was hard for him to understand. But, part of the mercy of this last evening of his life seemed to be a sense that he had done all he could do. He had been on Earth for eight-thousand-sixty hours, exactly the length of life each member of the Time family had lived. He had managed to learn that at an early age. There were stories about some living much longer, eons ago, but in recent centuries, his father, 1991 Time, had lived exactly the same number of days as his father, and so forth.
One thing Old 1992, for that was his first name, had learned was that he stood for the most important aspect of all of life and all events. He learned that all the people he had run into during his life Time regarded Time as the most important thing in their lives. Some thought money was more important, but he noticed in the long run, Time controlled most everything. He had heard that everything was relative. He had heard that Time and space are illusions. But, no matter what he had heard, it was apparent, Time seemed in control of everything and everyone. Human beings measured nearly everything by Time, money, and distance. People always wanted more Time and more money. But, he had heard, "What good is Time, it won't buy money?" And, he had heard, "What good is money, it won't buy Time?" He knew one thing about Time, it was on everyone's mind. He learned that one of the symptoms of people being aware of Time was anxiety, and oh so many people suffered from anxiety. He had heard that God was in charge of eternity, but Time was in charge of the universe and all things Temporal.
Only one thing disturbed him. As he thought about his power on Earth, he realized there was only one dimension he never could affect or influence. That was the dimension of the Spirit. He also realized, when human beings were happy, Time seemed to lose its importance to them. It was evident, from his experience, people were least aware of Time when they were doing what they truly wanted to do, being who they truly were meant to be, and when they had a sense of well-being.
On the other hand, he knew he was most important when people were suffering, unhappy, waiting for this or that, or, in some way, putting off their lives. He had learned a lot in his twelve months since his birth. He had learned a great deal about beginnings, births, and endings, deaths. One thing he had learned about death was out of an ancient book. He had read, "Death is the living you don't do." That had stuck with him and he yearned to live his life as fully as possible. In reflection, he couldn't imagine his life Time without a single event and he couldn't imagine it with one more thing than had happened. All in all, he had no regrets and, therefore, felt no remorse about coming to the end of his Time. He knew there was much more to be done, but knew there just wasn't any more Time for him. Also, it was apparent some things just wouldn't ever be done. He wasn't cynical, just reconciled to the facts of life and he had gained great wisdom in his twelve months on Earth.
What he knew this night was that it was almost over for him. His father, 1991, was barely a memory. He thought he could recall his father sitting, just as he was sitting this night, in this very same chair. The scythe was leaning exactly where it was leaning this night, just three-hundred-sixty-five days ago.
It was a very foggy memory, almost like a dream. He recalled, dimly, all he had on was a diaper and a little banner that went diagonally across his chest. He had kept that banner, but the diaper he threw away. The banner had his name on it, "1992." He recalled, again, dimly, everyone seemed happy to see him. He heard yells and cheers, saying, "Happy New Year!" He intuitively knew he had something to do with this, but did not know how much, until some hours, days, weeks, and months later. He had grown into childhood and adolescence by the Spring of his lifeTime.
So much had happened. The most difficult Time 1992 had was going through a political campaign. Most of what had happened during those months, especially in America, seemed to be nonsense to him. It had nothing to do with all of the needs and problems he could see throughout the world. If Old 1992 had anything at all, it was a world view of everything. It seemed to be inherited. He knew it took a while for him to die, because his life Time began at the International Dateline and ended there, no matter when people thought it was the end of his life and the beginning of the next one. He wasn't sure, of course, that there was another Time coming along. He presumed such, because that was the myth he had learned, but he couldn't be sure.
He sat heavily in his chair, reflecting, his eyes becoming more and more dim. The candle was burnt almost all the way down to the pewter holder. The wax was dripping off the edge of the old, oak table. He couldn't care less. It was almost over. The ancient clock's pendulum, relentlessly swinging, and the hands of the clock were both straight up. He looked up at the hands on that wonderful, old Greatgrandfather clock. Then he looked down at his own, boney, gnarly hands. The last thing he remembered was the first striking of the chime. It was the Thirty-first Day of December, 1992, at 2400 hours. This was it! He just knew it! He had no confidence he would know whether or not Time would go on.
After just seconds, however, he managed to gain enough strength to see a hazy shape before him. It was an infant! He had a diaper on him and a banner across his chest, reading, you guessed it, "1993." Suddenly, there was the faintest of smiles on Old 1992's face and a couple of tears rolled down his cheeks, just as he sighed his last breath.
The baby looked at the old man sitting motionless in the chair. He was fascinated with his long, white beard, his somewhat tattered, musty robe. He touched his knee, gently, and instinctively, reached for the pewter candle holder. The instant he touched the candle holder, there was fresh, newly lighted candle in the holder. All of the old wax fell away and the infant stood quietly, looking about his room. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there. But, somehow, he recalled the striking of a chime as being the very first sound he had heard.
He was just minutes old, when he heard in the distance, "Happy New Year!" For the next hours, he was to hear this same phrase in countless languages. He seemed to know the whole world was aware he had appeared, right on Time. He heard horns honking and music and all kinds of joyful sounds. But, he looked at the old man in the chair and his feelings were very mixed. He felt tears run down his cheeks, as he looked at the old man. But, there was much to do and he realized Time waits for no one and he better get on with the present.
The most important thing this infant seemed to know was that there was nothing more important than the PRESENT. He soon read in the Time manual, "The only ethic the Time family lives by is to be present every second of your Time on the planet Earth. THERE IS NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT," it read in bold print. He somehow deduced being present was the only thing he had to do throughout his life Time. The job was to do that every second everywhere. Supervising the continuing of all Time is no small task. So, 1993, like a good apprentice, set himself to the task. He quickly learned that second by second, everything was working out as best as could be expected, seeing as much of it depended upon human beings. The one encouragement 1993 gained had to do with learning that DNA was right on Time, no matter what happened in the world, DNA was running right on Time.
1993 was the infant. He would have Time to learn about his father, 1992. He would have Time to learn about the world his father had lived in and what had happened during the twelve months and many years before. He would have three-hundred-sixty-five days to learn so many things.
On the table, there was an open book, with all kinds of things to know about Time. Being in the present was at the top of each page, but there were other sayings, words of courage, words of warnings, and great wisdom abounded from this great, old book. He guessed each generation of his Time family had contributed something to this book. He was learning rapidly. He could read these words, soon, and already he was fascinated by them. Then, looking back at the chair, he was a bit startled. The old man was gone. The chair remained. There was a scythe leaning against the wall. 1993 had no idea what that was, but he would soon learn. You see, the awareness of Time cuts everything up into seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, centuries, eons, epochs, light years, and, in short, the present is what we have. 1993 began to think about Time. He philosophized, "Perhaps, the present is what we are about to have, or, did we just have it? As soon as I think it, it is past. Oh my! I guess the important thing is to live it, not think it. Perhaps if I plan on thinking something about the present in just one minute, I will think it exactly in the present." Already, just a few hours old, he was becoming immersed in one of the World's most important dimensions, Time.
There will be Time enough, for sure, even if it doesn't seem like it. Time keeps everything from happening at once. Time allows us not to have to do everything at once. The gift of Time is ours. When it is all over, we have eternity. Happy New Year to all of you!! What Time is it? Don't forget to show up and pay attention. This gift of Time is precious. The Present requires Presence. It is obvious to most of us, Time seems to be moving faster or we are moving faster through Time than used to be. BE? Now there's the key. If we truly BE, Time makes no difference.
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The Twelve Days of Christmas are over. It is Time for The Feast of The Epiphany. May 1993 bring blessings, challenges, pleasant surprises, opportunities galore to you and yours!
From the ancient Book of Time, scribed by hand of an ancester or 1993, it is written: "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."
(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
It is also written:
"Time travels in diverse paces with diverse persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal."
(As You Like It., Act III, Sc. 2. L. 326)