Time, what is it? It passes every moment. Whatever I do I can’t make it stop. I can’t buy or sell it. I can’t see or point to it. I can’t open a box and find it. I can think about it and see the effects. But what am I really seeing?
Patterns. People getting old, flowers blooming and dying, seasons changing, energy shaping itself.
All these things happen through to filter of our senses. We sense, we categorize what we have sensed and store it to our library of memories.
We all have our library of life. It has been building itself through our experiences. A story we tell ourselves about who we are.
I must say, life is a weird thing and the weirdest thing is pretending it’s not.
But are we the past? Have you ever experiences anything from the past?
No. There is only the present moment. When you think about the past or future, you think about them in the present.
So, if there is only the present, what happens to time?
Before you were born, there was present. After you die, there is present. Right now, there is present. I am writing this in the present and if somebody reads this 10 years from now, they are reading it in the present. You can’t escape it.
There is no place, were present isn’t around. And there is no place, where time is around.
Infinity. That’s where we are.