Time. It’s always time and there’s never enough. Except when there’s too much in this place where we’re all doing time. Time me, ti-me, tie-me-to-time. Or let the battery run out, let the ticking stop. But not my heart. Let my heart go on ticking when time has stopped. I’ll keep time to the beat of my heart. My inner biological, psychological, psychic clock, with its own logic that puts me in the right place, at the right time and never runs out.
This is the clock that rests on the shelf above my desk. Its battery, which seemed to have endless life, finally slowed down.
I had to wait a day to get a replacement. What surprised me was how often I found myself looking at the spot where the clock no longer was. I had no idea I was so dependent on this clock. It’s not as if I don’t have a clock on my laptop and phone. But I’m not used to looking at them for the time when I’m at my desk. I’m used to glancing at a certain spot on the shelf that was now empty. The disappearance of the clock threw me. And then I realized that this was the time-piece that reined me back into Time.
Laptops and phones are connected to the internet where it is too easy to lose all track of time and even to know what day it is. This old battery-run clock of mine, so solid looking and simple to read, purchased before anyone ever heard of a smartphone, brings me back. And I need that.