Imagine the massive gears of time grinding to a halt with silent groans and ethereal hands materializing to slip diaphanous sheets over the usual workings of the day. Billowing, shimmering, the filmy expanses land deftly and the landscape becomes luminous, ripe for the reflective thought that occurs only in quiet, only in space uninterrupted by time.
If time stops to examine itself, then shouldn't I? Is there an "hour of the pearl" for me?
If I were to recede into a reflective, luminous space of my own, would the sandy deposits in my psyche become pearls? Could this grit washed in by life's tide be transformed by time and habitude? One can only hope. And thus begins my quest, my journey into the daily cocoon that will expand my soul, my world.
"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who when he had found one pearl of great price, wend and sold all that he had and bought it." ~ Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew (chapter 13, verse 45)