a needle’s guide, finding the eddies in everyday life, break down to now, trimming to shape one of my bamboo bushes (bamboo comes in many forms not just the tall stuff you see those ultra cute Pandas chomping on), anyway, seems so mundane, doesn’t it? but (you know a big ‘but’ was coming sirmixalot), BUT this leads to that space, a sort of zen space, my version of bonsai time I suppose… some describe time as a river, always moving (assuming no dry season, I will have to parse that one out with Einstein on the other side I suppose), there I times when I have imagined, if there is a bank, if I could swim on over, grab a branch, some downed tree, and crawl up on the shore, even if for a moment or more, to be outside of time as it were, or was, or is, or… well, you get the drift (pun intended), finding the eddy, putting your finger in, being aware you are within the counter to the norm, the space where time seems to stand at attention, or still, if you will, now certainly I am no fool (contrary to reports you may have heard, perhaps she was right in some regard, regardless), time does not truly stand still (ever), anyway, finding those activities, hobbies, proclivities, situations, permutations, active participation in the moments where time finds a way to slip your mind, to fall away from any perception of the moment in hand, or on hand, or in your hands, like a flame dancing in your grasp without burning you, because you are the owner of this momentary reality outside normal parameters, thinking outside the box that there is no more box, for you see, there are times we are virtually occupying these spaces, usually without realization, so… trimming my bamboo, slowly pulls me into an eddy of calm, I am not even dawned upon that I am gone, the world is still moving about, surely, but I am lost in a sea of my own tranquility, unknowingly, and when I realize, then, of course, the moment is gone, where did the time go? sped up? “impossible” we’re told, why? that is the best we understand at this rest area of the human mind, but surely, and of this I am sure, the road goes on, the river does not cease, but every rare once in a while, the cosmos, god, the essence of life provides, a door, an escape hatch, a slide into temporary reprieve from the ponderous heft of time, so be sure to notice and thread the needle through the loophole’s eye, and look, and breath in the free space that was created just for you…