Beyond the man-made concept,
There is a clock inside the body,
A clock that notices the seasons of life.
Your breath knows it.
Your scars know it.
The tide within your chest knows it.
Time is strange.
One moment can become a lifetime.
And a lifetime can disappear with one exhale.
We spend so much of ourselves resisting time,
Replaying what has already dissolved and reaching for what has not yet arrived.
But time has never asked us to chase,
To notice.
Notice the warmth leaving the cup of tea,
Or the way laughter becomes a memory while it is still echoing,
And how every person you love is changing,
Even now.
Notice how full you feel when you breathe in,
And the emptiness when you let it out.
The present keeps opening.
Perhaps peace is not found by stopping time,
Or accelerating through it,
But by softening enough to move with it.
The river does not apologize for flowing.
The moon does not cling to fullness.
If we stopped demanding permanence,
What would remain if this moment was enough?
And when the mind wanders into the past or future,
Gently return with just this breath.
Because your life is not happening then.
It is happening here.
It is happening now.
It is happening with just this breath.