We live in different time warps.
For instance, in front of me I’m writing a quick essay on what I know about time. When I turn toward my left shoulder, though, I’m off for a snowy walk. No matter how badly I’m feeling inside or out, once I start walking, I’m better. I walk on air as I converse with the spirits above me and by my side.
As I place one foot in front of the other, my dad’s advice surrounds me (even though on this time warp he’s not alive). I’m also aware of my California friend’s presence. She and I walked together along the SF Bay regularly. I transport myself now to that path, with the pelicans swooping beside us on the water, the shorebirds racing back and forth. We talk faster than our feet walk as we watch the sun rise over the city and its Golden Gate.
By the way, the dictionary describes a time warp as an imaginary spatial distortion that allows fictional time travel. Shows you how little the “experts” know. That’s the spin we’re taught as soon as we’re born – that time is a straight line.
As I peer past my right shoulder I’m preparing Shepherd’s Pie. I chop up the onions and carrots, add peas and corn, sauté the ground beef, boil the potatoes to mash while sipping on a glass of wine. I wink at my friend Julia who taught me her grandmother’s recipe thirty two years ago. We clink glasses as she fades away.
I glance behind me at another time warp, in which I’m a Queen in the magical land of Ecotarium, which I know like the back of my hand. Currently my pet dragon is racing me toward his favorite banyan tree…
Oh, perhaps I’m warping too fast for you, dear reader. Is this unimaginable to you?
Never be fearful of what you know and what you can imagine.
I’m off the blogosphere for a couple of weeks, searching for the unimaginable, warping into a warmer land.