On Sunday I am departing for a nine day retreat, mainly a silent one of meditation and reflection. One of the requirements is that we turn off all electronics for the entire retreat.
What time is it when all the electronics are off?
As I prepare for my journey, I’d like to share this poem with you.
See you when I return – from beaver time.
Beaver TimeThe beaver, at least the one I saw in the pond by accident a year ago, was surprisingly small, making waves, diving, then after a time, swimming head up, getting back to work, as if to say “well you’ve delayed me long enough” and “I’ve decided you aren’t as dangerous as you look so I’ll get back to work.” Then work he did! As if I had crossed into Shangri-La or awoken in a magical place, I watched the beaver swimming back and forth, eating, moving twigs, diving for something several times and time passed I think from my time to “beaver time” a clock-less, tick tock – less time, a silent time, with only light and dark signing change, not a wrist watch or iphone or even a paper calendar. I was suspended in Beaver time and space and felt free for however long it took to do whatever the beaver was doing, plop, slap, nibble, splash, more waves in an otherwise calm and hidden pond.
– Walt Sutton