A few months ago I found a book called “A Tale for the Time Being” by Ruth Ozeki and since then it is my favourite book. At first, I bought it because of the beautiful cover and then the story captured me. Placing my very being into its pages, flipping each one letting it consume my time because it was the only place I needed to be.
It was filled with humour, sadness, and insight only a monk would give. I want to tell you more about it but I don’t want to give away too much. So, take note of the title maybe you’ll stumble upon it and wonder the same thing I did after reading. Instead let me give you a poem I wrote to summarize every thought, question, and realization that swum in my mind while I devoured each page.
“We Are Time Beings”
It is easy to live in the past
Even our bad memories
Become fond nostalgia
We live in this beautiful
Rose-coloured cinematography
Directed by our blurred recollections
Because it makes us smile
Even on the worst of days
Living in the now
Feels like a slipping slope
Being present in the present
Can be almost impossible
One moment is a million seconds
Part of a thousand fragmented memories
Already living in the past
While our nows and tomorrows
Are waiting to be lived in the back of our minds
