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HOLD YOUR HORSES
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If you imagine a garden in your mind
You can design it any way you like
If you like roses, the whole garden can be roses
Or fantastic topiaries, or both
The same thing is true for time
We invented time, cut the day up into uniform pieces
Assigned numbers and names to each little bit
We can't change the cultural or societal aspect of time
It is a convenience, a tool for cooperation
But our personal felt experience of time
Is under our control
Being impatient, rushed, urgent
Makes us quick to be annoyed, to get angry at anything
Or anyone that slows us down
Somehow, we have caught the feeling that we are wasting our lives
Squandering the precious substance of our existence
While waiting to merge in traffic, waiting for the update
Pacing back and forth waiting for a delivery
This creates a life-or-death tension for the slightest delay
We are no longer waiting for the crops to ripen
Or the cows to come home
We are waiting for the microwave, and these days?
We don't have all minute.
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