Time enough

Chasing down the muse

“One minute of time equal to all the time that you need” --Jean

Houston’s phrase has been ringing in my brain for days now. Time is

not just a simple linear progression, but like the thread in a woven

fabric, something that weaves back and forth on itself. It is

something fluid and temporal that allows us to shift from past to

present and, perhaps, future in the blink of an eye.

I am headed to Balboa Island where I facilitate a guided imagery

group. Billowing dark cloud monsters reach their heads up from the

darkening ocean horizon into a melon-colored sky. For the moment the

rain has stopped and lights twinkle around a bend in the land. If

only this moment could stand still.

Each week this is a rich and enjoyable experience for me. These

are caring, concerned women -- women who want more, not in the sense

of possessions but of knowledge, exploration, understanding, and

opening of new possibilities.

On this stormy night we gather together in front of a fire. In the

guided imagery tonight these women travel to many places. Some see

into the history of their yesterdays, touching down at various

moments deemed significant to them. These moments of time are

re-experienced or examined from a distance and are somehow changed --

accepted from the place of today’s wisdom. Others travel in images of

possibility -- visiting places only imagined, yet seeming to fully

experience them. Still others of the women just ride on the moment --

floating and rolling -- drawing needed sustenance there.

After the guided imagery, talk turns to time. We speak of the

miracle of time, of how important it is to gift ourselves with

certain kinds of time. That just one or two minutes of time can often

suffice for that need seems wonderful to us all. That we can

seemingly time-travel in these few minutes -- nothing short of a

miracle.

As we talk, I drift back to earlier in the day when I had been

stopped in my car at the light on Coast Highway at Nyes Place. 1:55

p.m. -- clock time on my dash. BAM! I was thrown forward toward the

steering wheel and stopped short of it by the snap of the seatbelt.

In what felt like slow motion, I was aware of this movement, of the

sound of glass breaking, but little more. I looked up into the

rearview mirror to see a dark-colored vehicle. My wits seemed slowed

too.

Soon I noticed cars moving again, around and past us. When it was

clear, I pulled my car over to the side of the road and got out. I

was aware of many things and none all at once -- the sun came out

from behind a cloud, there was a man in a dark sweater in a window

upstairs across the street, a line of cars were backed up behind the

dark vehicle with the front end smashed, a young woman was walking

toward me. Sounds were muffled as though my ears were filled with

cotton. And even as I was aware of all this, I took out my cell phone

to call the police -- first needing to connect with Information, not

wanting to consider this a 911 emergency call. I rolled my shoulders,

moved my head with care -- some part of me knowing I needed to do

this -- , breathed in four counts, then out, working to be clear. Two

men came by to try to help. In what seemed like no time at all two

fire engines appeared, closely followed by an ambulance. All I could

think was, “Where are the police?” as I looked north up the highway

for what seemed forever.

Time. Slow motion, no time at all, and forever. All seemed parts

of the reality of the situation. The firemen checked us both; the

police took a report from each of us. A tow truck came for her

vehicle. And then it was all over. I got back in my car, pulled away

and drove south again. 2:15 p.m. It felt like time had folded in on

itself once again.

In a minute of clock time, the brain is able to process a

multiplicity of informational bits. That one minute can record much

information. It can also nourish, sustain and enlarge our

perceptions. In the world today, doubts assail us and there are no

good answers. Still ... I have one answer -- wait longer. Let time do

some of its work. War with Iraq is yesterday’s answer. Let’s use the

minutes of today as all the time we need to choose wisdom.

* CHERRIL DOTY is a creative living coach, writer, artist, and

walker who lives and works in Laguna Beach. Contact her by e-mail at

emmagine8@aol.com or by phone at 251-3883. Your thoughts and

questions are appreciated.