Time

Do you ever dream of a life with no work, no worries, and no responsibility? Imagine a life of just getting caught in the day, living like I imagine the natives did hundreds of years ago. They had to get food, which was also their clothes, and oh yeah, it was also their house too. They had to do some work, and then they went about simply being and being simple. Imagine how much freedom they felt?

I will never really know if the natives lived like that, but I want to think so. I want to think that they understood time different than we do.  I picture that they did what they had to do, and then they just lived, sort of like in a dream. They didn’t have to get up and go to work, and they didn’t have bills. They didn’t have objects that they owned or that owned them.  We can invasion them hunting, getting the kill, spending a few days busting ass skinning and jerking the meat; tanning the hide, maybe making a new shirt or some cool buckskin pants (I wish I had a pair). But then it was back to chill time.

I liken tribal life to being a young boy when you forgot everything in the world except the activity that you were doing. It didn’t matter what it was, riding bikes, King of Bunkers Hill, playing with your Hot Wheels—can you remember that feeling I’m talking about?  It was when you pushed out time that’s on a clock. You were completely and magically caught in your timeless world. Not only the natives got this concept, the ancient Greeks talk extensively about this type of time; time that takes place in that dream state, not a movement of a clock.

It was this time that the Greek Gods lived in, the tribe lived in, and for small moments boys & girls, even now, get to live in. If you think back, you can remember some of those times. For me they mostly took place at night just before it got dark. I imagine it is like this for every kid, because the heat of the day cools, and all kids have to be home before dark. Can you remember the football games in the cul-du-sac, the neighborhood tire swing, jumping your bikes...come on you can remember?

Well, now you’re all grown up and the only time you know is on your watch. Don’t feel bad, we have all left Pan’s island, and those who have not are called drunks, druggies, bums, losers; and they live in their mommy’s basement. And even those guys don’t really get to stay in that time out of time, because it doesn’t exist anymore.

Today though I got a free pass to the island, a ride down memory lane; a ride on Apollo’s chariot. The air was thick of earthy musk smell; some of the leaves were still on the trees, yellow and red dropping on the water. The sun was bright and full, the breeze was at my back all day. Okay maybe that’s a bit thick, but for a few hours on Diamond Fork I forgot about my few hours.