Enjoying without Finish

   This evening, I had finished my French language exchange tutoring at around 9 pm, and was on my way from OISE back home.  Somehow, I got on the wrong subway, and found out too late that I was going south instead of north. Upon realizing my mistake, I got off the subway, and waited about fifteen minutes for a northbound subway to come. I  reasoned that somehow it's a good way to read my books while I was waiting to get home. But I could also sense a kind of sensitivity to time as I was riding the subway.
    I find it can be challenging to balance between the responsibilities  that require a sense of time, and letting go of the need to cling to time as the promise of fulfilled results. But I think this analogy can extend into the orientation one takes toward many relationships. Sometimes the miracle of what a person truly has with other people doesn't occur until one has realized that there is really no standard out there that is judging that relationship at all.
     For example, if my standard in life is simply to complete what I was supposed to finish, then anything else becomes a nightmare for me  If I am always worried about trying to finalize or assign a final value to something, I am missing the value of the incomplete, and how moments sometimes enrich other moments much later in the future.. Then I need to ask myself, why do I need to 'finish' at a certain time, and what does it mean to finish? "Finishing" is like imposing the standard of the future onto what hasn't happened yet. And what I observe from writing practice and meditation is how the place where talking ends and silence begins is often a bit arbitrary. It is there as a way to communicate and give others the space  to have their own experiences. But the finish of a lesson, an instruction, a book, etc. is not meant to finalize the meaning of that experience.