Week 1, Prompt A

They knew that the flux is equal to the reflux; that to interrupt with unlawful recurrences, out of time, is to weaken the impulse of onset and retreat; the sweep and impetus of movement. To live in constant efforts after an equal life, whether the equality be sought in mental production, or in spiritual sweetness, or in the joy of the senses, is to live without either rest or full activity. The souls of certain of the saints, being singularly simple and single, have been in the most complete subjection to the law of periodicity. Ecstasy and desolation visited them by seasons. They endured, during spaces of vacant time, the interior loss of all for which they had sacrificed the world. They rejoiced in the uncovenanted beatitude of sweetness alighting in their hearts. Like them are the poets whom, three times or ten times in the course of a long life, the Muse has approached, touched, and forsaken. And yet hardly like them; not always so docile, nor so wholly prepared for the departure, the brevity, of the golden and irrevocable hour. Few poets have fully recognised the metrical absence of their Muse. For full recognition is expressed in one only way—silence.

Meynell, Alice. “The rhythm of life.” 1893. Quotidiana. Ed. Patrick Madden. 31 Jan 2008. 03 Sep 2009 .

There is no present.

There is no present; only past and future. By the time when we realize we have experienced a moment, it is in the past; already being forgotten and lost to the ravages of time. But this does not bother the world at large. Most prefer to live in their own past, made to look better by their constant need to feed their ego and increase their importance. Some spend their time in the future; always planning ahead . . . always looking at the next mountain needing to be climbed and never looking at the beauty around them. There are a rare few who think they are living in the present. They make haphazard decisions to make it seem that they are spontaneous. But these people are doing it just be seen; like the hypocrite who donates a hospital wing only to have his name emblazoned on the side of the building, forever scripted there for all to see. But then again, why should people not be living in the past or the future? Since there is no present, what other options do they have? It is up to them to fulfill this hole in their lives by living in such a manner. Most just don't realize they are doing this. Since there never has been a present, it isn't possible for the people through history to live in one. So the real question is, who developed this strange notion of the present? They make it out to be some glorious event; some life altering symbol that gives meaning to their life; a golden trophy adored by all but received by none. The masses all clamor for something that none can attain; the Holy Grail of ideals, hidden from the human race by the human race. The truth is that there is no truth about living in the now. There never has nor ever will be a present; only past and future . . . only yesterday and tomorrow. Each breath you take is another instant taken by the unstoppable power of the past. Each heartbeat is another echo in the endless chasms of antiquity. Each plan you make becomes devoured by the infinite and myriad possibilities of the future. Our lives are either swallowed by the past or prisoners to the future.
Mike Terry
70 Minutes.