My wife and I live in a House of Now. We haven’t always lived here. We came here in 1981 to stay with my wife’s mother, Evelyn, while we decided what we wanted to do with our time in Virginia. I wanted to teach yoga… somewhere in time.
We tried to leave the house several times during the 80’s, moving to Farmville, renting another house here in Blackstone. I even went to Florida to see if there was another time and place for me. But we always came back to these large rooms that always seemed to have a space for me.
When Evelyn died, leaving for Norfolk one sunny day in her bright purple outfit, smiling, and kissing me as an after thought before she left, she never came back to now. But not long after her funeral, a psychic friend saw Evelyn in the front foyer and said, she is here now.
So my wife and I settled into the House of Now, and time stopped pulling us. For the first time in my life I stopped thinking and wondering where I was going to go next.
I was a writer and photographer for the local newspaper, and I thought, in time, I would never leave that job. But the job after eight years suddenly left me, and I found myself back in the House of Now, wondering what I was going to do with my time. But there was no next. I just did what I was already doing, taking pictures and making people feel good about themselves.
In July of 2005, I was at Yogaville, a place where time and eternity seem to meet, and what little time I had left in my mind just seemed to fall at my feet like icicles from a roof in a sudden spring thaw. Now, there was only me with no time left for where I wanted to be.
During the “time” since that timeless moment at Yogaville, what remains of my time continues to melt. As thoughts of tomorrow break and melt into the present moment, our life here in this house flowers like a spring bulb pushing its way through the frozen earth into the timeless rays of the sun.
Our days are not numbered here. There is no tomorrow anymore. Oh, there is the tomorrow of events, but no tomorrow or next moment in the mind. In the House of Now…now is enough.
What do we do in the House of Now, now that we have all the time in the world? We listen intently to the sounds of a spoon as it stirs the tea; we watch the eyes of our cat focus on an offered piece of food; we notice a new ray of light touch a spot on the rug.
I touch my wife’s hand like it is the petal of a flower, and I look at her face as if it is the first time I am seeing it.
So beautiful this present moment….I never want to leave.
Posted under General Observations
This post was written by ed on November 9, 2006
