“There’s not enough time” is the pervasive mantra of our age. It is my constant, unceasing refrain. And yet, there is always exactly enough time to do those things I am doing. When I say there is not enough time, I am regretting the things I am not doing.
Regretting things I am not doing is a symptom of time sickness. There is a cure. Stop filling up time.
Time is a vessel. It contains us. We do not contain time.
There is time in between the things I do. Subtle, secret spaces that I fill with noise, motion and distraction.
There is stillness that is always with me, inside me. This stillness is always there. It is always waiting. It is always enough.