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There wouldn’t be nearly the number of troubles, problems and concerns in my life, if I truly understood and accepted the concept and reality of Time.  I’m going to go ahead and capitalize the word.

I don’t fully appreciate Time’s power and might.  Much like electricity, it’s not until you’re knocked on your ass that its almighty omnipresence is made clear.  With wattage, it’s physically shocking and scary.  With time, it’s the erosion of intensity.  One’s instant; one’s forever.

Step Two: came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

Time.  I waste it.  I kill it.  I stretch it beyond its elasticity.  I divide it by 15.  Reason enough to putter around another 12 minutes: starting something on the quarter-hour makes for easier measuring of future accomplishments.

But I never trust it to do what it always does: lessen the intensity of my flaming-out mind.  Because, in the short run, when I’m wanting or needing or craving or not accepting, Time becomes a fat old man taking forever to rise from his recliner.  And that’s what I need to concentrate on lately: the tick-tocking away of the little insane emotions and thoughts.

There have been numerous occasions recently where it would have been better for me to literally stop, drop, and roll my way out of the room.  Just roll away without explanation rather than exploding with instant reaction.  I mean, I blow up so that I can excuse myself anyway, correct?  Then let’s cut out the middleman, shall we?

Sure, it’s embarrassing, but it’s baby steps back to a reality that doesn’t involve lies and paranoia and whatever else my diseased, defensive brain feels like pulling out of its bag of tricks to knock my off the beam.

Time:  it’s the scientific core of This Too Shall Pass, but when has science ever kept me chill?

Today: Recognize that instant responses and retorts and reactions often are covered in hidden emotion.
Start with that.  And pause.

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