I'm Adalimone and this is The Slowdown.

This is going to sound strange and ethereal.

But I think I might have stopped believing in time all together.

I mean, of course, it does move in one direction, but then again, does it?

If we've learned anything over the last two years of living in a pandemic, it has to be

that time is complicated.

I have started to view time more like a ball of yarn where all the threads are interwoven

and touching and do not unravel into one straight line that goes from birth to death.

All the yarn is intermingling so that what happened in the past is also happening now

and what is happening now is also happening in the future.

I don't know if this is true, but I think many artists feel this way.

This gives rise to the idea of resurrection, the idea of ghosts, the idea of immortality,

and of course, the idea of memory and its power.

During years of meditation work, I have focused on staying in the present moment, but within

the present moment is the past and the future, even without obsessing on either.

I am both seed and the tree, and aren't we all?

I'm sure all of this sounds too metaphysical and strange, and yet I can't help but think

for many of us it's how we live.

Einstein once wrote, people like us who believe in physics know that the distinction between

past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.

And it seems lately I am more and more interested in looking past the illusion and surrendering

to the idea that my life is not in any way linear, but instead my dead are with me.

...