Now Is A Constant

Now Is A Constant

This moment is always new. Why would I or anyone want to compare it to moments dead and gone, gone on past and withered and died? Do we not take away the newness in life by making it part of the old, by joining the living to memory’s graveyard? Still less does it make sense to compare this moment now, so quickly passing and dying away, to a hope for some distant tomorrow. If I do that, this moment is lost, without having been tasted. I want nothing of the past, saving back those things that are part of everyday survival, like knowing how to cook a meal or drive a car. The future is a chimera of which no one can genuinely have expectations…nothing is ever guaranteed. Is Nothing sacred? Ask yourself, can we put a scratch on Nothing or ever mark its purity? And yet, if you ask, “What is the Most Sacred?”, one would respond truthfully in saying, “Nothing sacred…just vast space”. In the endless reaches of that Immensity, there is only a single Now. Blink, and we miss it a trillion times.

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