Hours built like cities….

Linking with The Pagan Experience Blog Project.

Time – How do you measure time? How do you make use of linear time in sacred space? How do you call forth the space of timelessness in your physical life? How do you integrate the two for your magical/spiritual work?

I saw this weeks theme and immediately thought of the below poem. In addition here are a few of my thoughts on the themes questions.

How do you measure time?

The obvious answer is with clocks and watches and calenders, but thinking back I tend to measure time in segments of lives or phases usually created and ended by new relationships, houses, jobs or other changes such as health. I also know with these segments comes a measure of the period of time as a happy one or a stressful one or a sad one, and I also know that these feelings become distorted by the effects of time itself. I have ideas about how I felt during periods of time and yet often when I look back over old photos and I see me looking out, I think I am happier than I remember. Sometimes I carry the bad part of the past into the future and I wait for them, overall I measure time in feelings.

How do you make use of linear time in sacred space? How do you call forth the space of timelessness in your physical life? How do you integrate the two for your magickal/spiritual work?

I don’t really! Other than to move through it to work from one thing to the next. I have used sand in the past to represent time in certain situations and that worked well. I have also seen people use sand egg timers to represent time and to indicate time passing or a point in time for something to begin. I do think I should consider time more. The theme did however make me think of the below poem…….

Hours – Poem by Hazel Hall

I have known hours built like cities,
House on grey house, with streets between
That lead to straggling roads and trail off,
Forgotten in a field of green;

Hours made like mountains lifting
White crests out of the fog and rain,
And woven of forbidden music—
Hours eternal in their pain.

Life is a tapestry of hours
Forever mellowing in tone,
Where all things blend, even the longing
For hours I have never known.

New-York-Photo-by-Jon-Richardson

Image is a photo of New York by Jon Richardson

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