An unknown author posits, “Time does not pass, it continues.” Is it that simple? Short of think tank theorists, I don’t suppose any of us debate time’s monotonous march or swift stride forward. We measure progress by change and evaluate quality by experience (positive or negative). Tension, when it exists, is often sparked by expectations and limitations. Notice the common denominator is personal: the “self.” No, the progression of time isn’t questioned; the experience of it becomes the thing.

Disappointment.
Isn’t that when we struggle?

“I had three days. Three days!”  The treatment worked surprisingly well, but the results are intermittent.

“I know there must be a child out there for us! How will I know where?”  Heartbreaking news wreaked havoc in the adoption plans that seemed straight forward.

“I’m in transition.”  The belongings that crowded the desk were packed up in boxes. Three months ago.

What we know…
Time is the one-way path disappearing into the expanse beyond. We like to think we can see so many steps ahead, but if we’re honest, the path is obscured just in front of the footprints we fill. We’d prefer to know every twist, turn, and “happily ever after” that simply has to trail behind each circumstance, wouldn’t we? But we don’t. And we can’t.

~Jennifer