It has taken 5-6 million years for the Colorado River to form the Grand Canyon, so far. Although this timeline might be debated here and there, I think my human brain has a hard time visualizing any amount of multimillions, especially where time is concerned. This is just a tiny blip of time in geology terms. I can see the river presently, wild and freezing, rushing and downcutting. To my eyes and in a single moment, there’s no real indication that a process of tremendous proportions is occurring. I’d just need to come back to that very spot in a few hundred years for proof. Time is funny that way. If I was a rock, I’d have all the time in the world to form then erode away, but . . . I am not a rock; I am only a blink through the canyon’s eyes. I’d probably spend far more time contemplating whether or not this post is making any sense with 5 million years in front of me. My husband would finally have all the time he could ever want to binge-watch his favorite horse show.
Speaking of husbands, the other day we were talking about the life of a giant tortoise. Can you imagine? Life in slow motion as we know it for possibly 150 years? Their perspective on time might be quite different than ours. On the other end, I think a dog’s perspective might also be unique . . . time is limited, just the love please.
So how does time relate to a sense of calm?
Like many, this past year was unlike any I’ve ever had to tackle. The goal—guide my kids successfully through distance learning. And by successful, I mean continuing to be physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy. This is always the goal of course, but these circumstances had the potential to become exceptionally intense. Running between computers simultaneously during live zooms to help with operations, reading, and comprehension all day long was not for the weak of heart and I’ll save you the details. We worked very hard giving it our all. It’s over now and I have to wonder. While many days felt like forever, the time has passed. Did I succeed? I need to step far back to see the picture more clearly. The dust has settled and I can see a smidge of a process of tremendous proportions.
There they are, playing outside and laughing in the summer sunshine as if nothing ever took place. I watch them enjoy their fleeting moments as children in every best way possible. Will this atypical time affect them somehow in the future? Will they even remember? Who knows. But for now, my daughter said and I quote, “root beer tastes like science!” She was eating a root beer flavored Popsicle. She loves science, making this the coolest thing I’ve heard. She’s exceptional in this subject and one day she’ll contribute to helping the world be a better place with her inventions. I know she will.
If I could whisper in my ear 10 months ago I’d say, take a deep breath and put your yellow shoes on. The Grand Canyon wasn’t created in a day or a year. Time is our most calming friend and something beautiful is being created along the way. It might not be flowing in the direction I anticipated, but just float along with the winding river’s current anyway. Carve out one moment at a time. Everything’s gonna be okay.
