By admin 
A daughter turns forty-four, and suddenly two images exist at once. The baby in your arms, and the woman standing firmly in her own life. Both feel equally real. And the mind says, “Where did the time go?”
As if it went somewhere.
In daily life we experience time as elastic. An hour in a waiting room can feel endless, while an afternoon with friends disappears before you’ve finished your coffee. Science confirms this. Our brains do not measure time like a clock does. They measure change, novelty, attention. When nothing seems to happen, time stretches. When life feels full, time contracts.
This is why childhood summers felt infinite. Everything was new. Every day was filled with first experiences. As adults, days often repeat themselves. Same routes, same routines, same thoughts. Time didn’t speed up, perception did.
Animals seem to live in a very different relationship with time. A dog does not think, “I have five more years.” A cat does not worry about tomorrow. A mayfly that lives for one day does not experience life as short. For that creature, a day is a lifetime. Duration is not the same as depth. Life is not measured in length, but in presence.
Science can describe time as a dimension, a sequence, even something that bends under gravity. Physics may tell us how clocks behave near black holes, but it cannot explain why impatience feels the way it does in a supermarket queue. That belongs to the mind.
This is where A Course in Miracles quietly steps in and says something radical: time is not what we think it is. Time, according to the Course, was made as a learning device. A classroom, not a prison. It exists only because the mind believes it is separated and needs a sequence to remember the Truth again.
From that perspective, time is not the enemy. It is a gentle tutor. Each moment offers the same lesson: will I choose fear or love now?
Impatience is especially revealing. It always comes from the same thought: this moment should be different. Something should already have happened. Someone should be faster, wiser, more considerate. Impatience is never really about time. It is about resistance to what is.
A traffic jam does not cause impatience. The story we tell about it does. A child taking long to put on shoes does not slow time. The expectation that life should obey our schedule does.
In the light of the Course, impatience is a small alarm clock. Not to wake us up earlier, but to wake us up. It shows us where we still believe salvation lies in the future. Where we think peace will arrive later, when something changes.
But peace is not waiting in the next hour, next year, or next phase of life. Peace is always now….or not at all.
This is why time seems to soften when we are truly present. In moments of love, creativity, laughter, deep listening, time almost dissolves. We forget to check the clock. We forget ourselves. And that forgetting is actually remembering.
The Course tells us that in truth, there is no past to regret and no future to fear. Only a holy instant in which everything is already complete. Time exists only to gently lead us to that realization, moment by moment, without force.
So perhaps time does not fly. Perhaps it bows. Each moment offering itself and saying, “Here I am. Will you be here too?”
And maybe the greatest gift we can give ourselves is not nostalgia for the past or anxiety about the future, but the quiet joy of meeting this moment fully.
With love and light,
G.