It was during a time when I was trying to mesh two very diverse principles into my life when the incident with my watch occurred. The cyclical nature of the universe and the linear structure of the third dimension appeared to me to be viable, yet contradictory theories. How could I remain in the "present moment" while the tick-tock of linear time called to my attention?

Finally I arrived at the brilliant solution of dividing my existence between the two theories. During the week I would meet my professional responsibilities in a timely manner by wearing my watch. However, the weekends were "my time," so I would experience the natural, cyclical flow of the universe by not wearing a watch. At first, it was a pleasant, tidy method. A reinforcement of the "freedom" of the weekend , but a constant reminder of the "duty" during the week.

Interestingly, this behavior pattern set up a "mirror" experience for me. Time seemed to rapidly slip away from me while I wore a watch. Deadlines rushed towards me and breezed on by, before I was prepared to meet them. Even getting to the office in a timely manner became a daily challenge. It didn't take long for me to realize that even my personal time was filled with responsibilities that were connected to the points of reference that develop linear time. The "present moment" was still full of "tick-tocks."

Eventually, I developed a state of mind that I called "no time." I would note on a clock or a calendar the specific time frame I had to accomplish a duty or task (getting to the office on time or meeting the deadline of a project), regardless of the immediacy or importance of the matter. Then, I would stubbornly refuse to look at the linear tools and focus my concentration and efforts on accomplishing the task. The results were amazing, there was always "time" left over.

It didn't matter if it was a fifteen minute or two week scale. For example, if I looked at the clock and saw I had fifteen minutes left to get to work on time, but knew that was impossible because I still had to curl my hair, put on my makeup, get dressed and feed the dogs, I would immediately set my awareness to "no time," and proceed to get these tasks done. Every single time, when I would get into the car, start the ignition and look at the clock, I would have five minutes to spare!

Then the fun began to start. The Universe, in its infinite wisdom and humor, brought the test of the lesson to me. A dear friend had given me a sizable amount of money for a birthday gift. I decided to treat myself to a dress watch. You know, one of those fancy gold things, with the edge of the clock face encrusted in diamonds and an intricate clasp. It seemed to me to be a practical purchase, since I would only be wearing the watch to the office during the week. Right from the first time I wore my special gift, I had difficulty with the clasp. It would appear to be snug and secure, but invariably it would break loose and the watch would drop into my lap or onto my desk.Finally, the day came when I got home from the office and realized the watch was completely missing. I carefully searched my clothing, my purse, my car and came to the sickening conclusion my prized gift was not there. There was nothing left to do but retrace my steps in the morning. That wasn't a difficult option since I was a creature of habit. I always parked in the same spot on the top, open aired level of a parking ramp. I always walked to the same stairwell and always took the same route to the office building. If I had lost the watch between the office and my car, it would be a simple task to find it, if someone else didn't find it first.

The next morning was gray and wet. It had rained throughout the night and the sky was threatening to rain some more. I drove to work and carefully looked over the parking spot before I pulled in my car. As I walked across the parking lot to the stairwell, I purposely kept my eyes riveted to the pavement (not an easy thing for me to do, I always like to gaze about as I walk). And there it was, six feet from the door to the stairwell, neatly stretched out flat as though it had purposely been placed there. The watch was right in the path of where several vehicles would have driven and several people would have walked past it, face up in a puddle of water. I picked it up and was amazed to find it in excellent condition. It wasn't a water resistant watch, but was still keeping perfect time. The crystal face of the watch wasn't broken or scratched. The clasp still worked in its unpredictable manner.

Finding the watch, under those conditions, and still working was nothing less than a miracle to me. I turned to my spirit guides and asked them what the purpose of this experience was. Was there a specific reason for this event? Was someone trying to get my attention?

The answer was simple. It was time for me to stop straddling the fence. It was time for me to walk my talk. It was true that linear time was manmade. However, it was a necessary invention to create a point of reference for an orderly existence in the third dimension. Yet, the natural cycles of our existence take precedence over the creation of linear time. When you choose to live according to the principles of natural law, you can exist within the third dimension without the tools that have been created. It was time for me to put away the watch and take, yet another, leap of faith.

The end result? I've never worn a watch since that day and am one of the most punctual people I know. Clocks seem to accumulate in my life. My home is full of them. But any guest will quickly notice that no two clocks say the same time. The clocks are decorations or part of some necessary equipment. Yet, linear time is no longer the task master of my existence. Today, if you ask me the time, I'll turn my left wrist upward, glance down, look back up and lovingly tell you... "It's a freckle past a hair."

© copyright Teri Robison 1997