The little tiny one-hour time change, is really throwing me off. As I looked at the clock last night, 10:45, 12:11, 2:33, and finally giving into morning at 3:30, I thought how often it's harder to gain, than to lose.
I used to look forward to that extra hour of sleep, it felt so luxurious, so indulgent, so necessary.
My friend told me that she is often too tired to put her clean sheets back on the bed all the way, before climbing into bed, exhausted.
I had years of that type of exhaustion, where the days were just one long, brutal moment after another.
When did the years turn the corner?
When did I?
When did gaining time become a "problem?"
I'm re-listening to Eckhart Tolle's Stillness Speaks. If you're looking for wisdom from a modern-day enlightened being, you need look no further.
The extra time is for stillness. It is for "nothing," it is a gift, handed with an open hand, to be used carefully, and with gentle awareness.