Spirals of Time in This Place

I spied a “New Yorker” magazine in the co-op giveaway bin as I walked out with my small bag of groceries. It was an older issue dated September 2019. I immediately felt as if I were in one of those time travel movies where you don’t completely realize or accept that you’ve gone back in time until you see the date printed on something . I think that’s the way it is for all of us right now. We seem to be going backwards or at least in circles as we move forward collectively. I remember watching a video online about how the planets don’t just revolve around each but rather form a line of all the planets spiraling around each other as they wiggle their way through space like some kind of corkscrewing helix filled with the DNA of all of existence. Who knows. A good friend and I seem to spend quite a bit of time talking about time. About how it’s a construct. About how we don’t understand it. I mean we can’t chart it, at least not how it actually is, because who knows what that is, but we both can feel it. We often notice, in a sidewalk level particle physics discussion kind of way, how our actions and our feelings seem to affect time. We describe similar experiences we’ve each had with time and marvel that we know what the other person is saying even though we don’t actually have the words that would make our stories make sense to many other people. History is repeating itself or is it just playing ring around the rosy? Is our collective consciousness getting stronger because there are more of us vibrating all at once on the planet now? If that’s true then why the dichotomy of those who care about others and those who don’t? Of those who let their fears turn them into monsters of all different sizes and those who don’t. Make no mistake, we are all afraid. Let’s face it, we’re just animals. But animals know. They can feel a storm coming. They can smell peace.

Cinse Bonino
2024