Back around the turn of the century, from the 19th to the 20th, there was an author, who wrote books about young boys, who grew up to turn misfortune into fortunes. I remember my grandmother had copies of Horatio Alger’s books. One was entitled “Watch and Wait”. I think it was the story of a poor newsboy. Anway, I always remembered the title. And, I think that’s what I have been doing all my life…watching and waiting.
Recently I have been reading a book, which deals with myths. One young boy described myths as being stories, which were true on the inside and not real on the outside. Myths are timeless. They keep popping up in one form or another across the ages. The reason they are so valuable is because of what that boy said, they are always true on our insides, never mind the reality going on outside of us.
I was thinking about that today. Ti! me vs. the timeless. We’re always saying things like, I haven’t got time; time on my hands; there’s no time like the present; too much time. We’re often consumed with the thought of time. I have to be there on time. We have calendars and clocks to mark time. History books take a measure of the passage of time.
But, on our “inside”, our inner life, there really is no time. If we really live those words, the spiritual life is not a theory it has to be lived; if we are actively pursuing this way of life, we will find a place within where clocks and calendars are of no use; they have no meaning. We enter a different dimension. Even though we may be doing this on a time limited scale. For those moments, time seems to stand still. We are in the present; the now.
The “now” is not the now by our clocks. Because the now passes wi! th the tick of a clock. Right now becomes the past. Unless we choose to go down within ourselves and spend some time with the Eternal. It’s there that the concept of time, the idea, is of no value.
I choose to think, and this is not original with me, that what I am doing is watching and waiting. Waiting for what? I don’t know. Waiting on my God. Waiting for God. When that moment of complete silence occurs.
Of course, when I stop and go on with life, as I know it, I know nothing about it. I’m back on my outsides. The thought of God and my waiting and watching slip away. I’m back in the world of time. The news on the hour and all its attendant problems. The alarm goes off and I get up.
But, one thing that I can bring back into this outer life is the one thing that was given me, when I first heard! that there was a solution; hope. One of the men, who penned a version of the myth of “Tristan and Iseult”, was quoted as saying “…hope in the heart of men lives on lean pasture”. I don’t think so. I think the pasture grows green and verdent as we grow. At least I hope so.
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