As I completed my run, I wondered where the “time” had gone. It seemed I arrived at the trail head so quickly. Recognizing that my mind had been absorbed in some future reverie while my body moved through space, I saw, to my dismay, that I had not really been present for my experience. In being absorbed in the mental realm, I had not only missed the beauty of my surroundings, I had seemingly lost those moments in “time”. How often do we find ourselves in this place?

Preparing to shower after my run, I glanced in the mirror and saw a silver haired me looking back where there was once a brunette. “Time” seemed to be greeting me around every corner ….yup, it’s me again! What was up with that I wondered? Was it my 40 year high school and 35 year nursing class reunion coming up next month? Or was it my experience of loss over recent months through a series of debilitating health issues and the deaths of loved ones? Reasons aside, it seemed I was being given an opportunity to explore my relationship with time . I decided to revisit an old contemplative question I explored back in my 40s.‘If I only had six months to live, what would I do with my time left?’ This has been a deeply clarifying question for me in many respects, but this time around it opened up an even deeper inquiry for me.

My clinic patients, who are mostly in their mid 70-90’s, often bring up the subject of time. “Time goes by quicker the older I get” they lament. I understand. I have experienced this myself. Do you remember the oh so sisters-931131__480long summers of childhood? Why do you suppose our days have seemingly shortened? Could it be that as children we simply lived more in the present moment without thought or concern for the past or future? Is there something about being in the moment that alters our perception of time? How often are we, as adults, in the present moment of our lives?

As I entered my young adult years, present moment awareness began resurfacing periodically. Under certain conditions, past and future referencing receded and my mind would come to rest. A peaceful, spacious, childlike wonder would often open up and time would seemingly slow down. On rare occasions, what I now understand to be a “flow” state would unfold.

Flow states for me happened quite spontaneously and would usually occur while I was doing something ordinary like dusting furniture. Suddenly there would be a relaxation of my personal will and without thought, I would notice movement happening moment by moment quite effortlessly as if I were not the “doer” at all. Time appeared to slow down as each unfolding moment appeared.

These experiences now serve to remind me of the importance of being fully present in this life as in unfolds in and through me moment to moment.

This article was published in the September 2016 addition of SIBYL magazine