It took me forever to do my math homework. All the problems dealt with trains leaving, arriving, clocks ticking, tracks crossing, and with each one I went on a trip. I was so much more concerned with where I was going, than the actual calculation of time. It seemed so clear to me, even as a teen, barely one foot on this train, what was important — what was I going to do with the time?
Is this the math they said we’d never use? Maybe. From time to time, I must admit I start to calculate. Calculate how long 12 years felt in school to gauge how quickly the next twelve will go. How fast did it feel? How long did I know my grandmother? How many rocks did I pick with my grandfather? How many days of vacation did I take with my mother? And did it feel fast at the time? Maybe if it felt long, if I could only make it feel longer, then the days ahead would pass more slowly? What am I doing? There is no math for this.
I sit at my desk, both feet on the train now. I open the window and drop the “times this” and “divide that” and let it rattle on the track. How easily I let go of the problems then. It feels so good to do the same today. My heart and brain wander without time, only experience. I begin the day’s journey. What a trip it will be!
