With only a week left in this gorgeous house, I felt myself start to grasp at what time I had left.
This felt like a tightening, a restriction. A deep desire to not let go of something so wonderful.
Over the next day or two, I noticed that time seemed to go faster. Not the desired effect I was looking for.
I remembered how I can bend time: Set the intention that the remaining days here are going to *feel* spacious, and savoury, as though I’ve made a week feel like two. (Hint: time is a feeling, not as linear as we think).
Not surprisingly, it worked. I seemed to lessen my grasp on our remaining time. The days felt long. The experiences felt engaging and woven into what time we had, spaciously delivered. No forcing. No rushing. It all gets to be here.
And then we left.
