Time is happening without asking permission to do to. It just keeps circling.
And I’ve been wondering:
Is that why the part of a clock that tells time is called a face?
Because we carry it, too?
Our faces hold features and hours. They reveal what’s been happening and what is happening even when we try to mask it.
These lyrics from Turnstile haunt me:
Time is happening / Ever-passing me
Circle back again / Lost my only friend
Our faces are surfaces and witnesses.
And makeup? It can be a way to mark the moment. To declare:
Yes, time is happening.
But so am I.
Today, an invitation:
Stand in front of a mirror and look (not to assess or correct) but to acknowledge.
What is your face keeping time of?
What stories does it tell that no one else hears?
You don’t need to rewind or fast-forward.
You’re right on time.