Some concentrated world-tilting words of the kind which frequently finds its application in daily life and spontaneously reemerges as a reality:

Returning perception to an organic membrane that communes with reality, the stop discloses timing. Time in the singular is revealed as an abstraction. With a thing, process, or event, there is no single time, overarching each and every aspect, but many. There is a time for meeting, a time for falling in love, a time for marrying, and a time for begetting. As Paracelsus, who studies the dynamics of timing, says, “time does not run in one way, but to many thousand ways. For you see that thyme blooms all the year round, whereas the crocus has its time in autumn.” Each thing, process, or event is a nexus of tempos, a cluster of rhythms responding to different influences. The deeper knowledge of organic perception pertains to potential times or timings of an object.

(From David Appelbaum’s The Stop.)

I welcome this insight into that cluster of recurring realizations that constitutes my life.