The sense of time is quite strange. I sometimes have difficulties figuring out how or why time seems to go "more quickly" on some days than others, when one is doing the exact same thing at work, from one day to the next. I believe that today felt like the shortest day of my life. Now why and how does it happen that time slips away so quickly?
I have found that whenever I really let myself be drawn into the present experience, I am not even thinking about time. But there is no trick to this: I don't try be in the present, but rather I just let things fall in whatever arrangement they want to be, seeing myself more as a participant or a fellow "time traveller" than as the clock-master. When I think in this way, there is no time, because there is no longer the illusion that there is an I moving from point A to point B in time. Without that sense of linearity, time doesn't seem to exist at all, and I find myself oddly enough not even being aware that hours passed while I was doing something.
It has only been recently when working at home that I have experienced these kinds of moments. And I have come to the sense that these moments are training in the awareness that time itself is not so real, because it is not a something reaching forward to an end result. This is a kind of felt sense of things going on and not having a real finish.
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