A Place called Time

In my mind's eye there is a tranquil place called time. But, I wonder, and wonder a little too much, on occasions whether such a place actually and in reality exists. For us petty creatures all caught up on the tangibility of things it is always hard to tread on waves of inconcreteness, we are pressed to find a stable ground under our feet and perhaps under our thoughts. Doubts and the sheer possibility of the unknown, the great void where things can go either way is a scary place.

I want to know and be assured that the time I exist in is a place, a definite point in some continuum, a spot which is preceded by a before and followed by an after. And that location gives it definition, a locale, an address by which I can file it in my memory and retrieve it when I desire. But things aren't as clear and simple as this and who would know this more than me, there are incidents, events, days and experiences in our lives where we are left thinking and confused whether they ever occurred or not? or were they merely a flight or fancy of our imagination? or a dream? We cannot place them in time and hence can never explain them in the language of yesterdays, todays and tomorrows.

These days time seems to fold on itself for me, where places where I was some years back have suddenly started to stare me in the eye, and destinations of the days to come keep receding into the distance. And I float or is it fly for I can hardly make out the difference; all I know is that I am outside the realm of time and for me there isn't a place called now....