Time, Like a Lost Sock

What do we really have time for?


It’s surprising, sometimes.  No, I don’t have time to take guitar lessons.  No I don’t have time to paint or draw.  No I don’t have time to finish that book.  I don’t even have time to sit with a cup of tea for 10 minutes.


But then something happened.  For me, it was two weeks ago when my rat, Thor, got sick.  Now, rats don’t live very long to begin with, but for some background, I lost my other rat, Spike, about a month ago and didn’t want to go through that again so soon.  Suddenly I had many minutes during the day to stop and just sit with him, hold him, comfort him.  I had time to wrap him in a towel on my lap and hold his little nose over the teakettle steam to clear his congestion (yeah, it’s like giving a rat a facial). Then after the vet prescribed antibiotics, I had time to sit and give him his medicine twice a day.  I also had time to fix him special meals of mashed bananas and avocados or apples and kefir while he regained his appetite.


I still give him medicine twice a day (and the little scratches all over my left hand are a testament to my dedication), but what happens after next week when I no longer have to do that?  What happens to that 10 minutes twice a day that is suddenly freed up?  Will I make a cup of tea instead?  Or meditate?  Or will it disappear back into the abyss of lost time?


I think lost time is like the lost sock in the dryer.  The sock didn’t just disappear.  It didn’t de-materialize into nothingness. It is somewhere…just like the lost time…waiting to be found and used again.




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