Plastic Nature of Time

Every morning, I wake up, and promise myself I'll post something. Then I do a quick check of email, to see how my friends and loved ones are doing. Then I notice the unpaid bill on the desk next to me, and pay that. Then I go make my morning cuppa. Then the dog needs out. Or in. And the cats need in. Or out. And food. Whether it's already there in the bowl or not. Then the baby wakes up, ready for a day of play. Then the phone rings, the inbox fills up, and before I know it, it's time for dinner and another whole day has gotten away from me. There are times when I lean against the fridge, (cause it's cool against the forehead, and because I have a magnet with the picture of the Dalai Lama, with the words "Be Stoked" across the bottom, and I like the idea of pressing forehead with HH the DL when my day's disintegrated), and ponder the reality that we do not have, as the researcher says, equal epistemic access to both past and future. See, there is nothing about time, inherently, that should make it accessable going forward but not back. It is actually strange that by doing something now, we affect the future, but not the past. This fact makes quantum physicists a little crazy (or a little crazier than they already are). Some days, it's pretty powerful motivation to try to dip my toe into the river of time one more time to see if maybe it'll come out different than it has every other time before. In the meantime, The Little Boy needs breakfast.