When I was twenty-one I read a poem about .Waiting. We wait to grow-up we wait in line, we wait to have a baby. As we grow older we wait for the kids to grow, wait for the kids to come visit us. Wait for our periods to cease, wait for our grandchildren to come and visit. With all this waiting, a woman becomes intimate with time; time as it passes, time as it moves you from place to place...home , work, grocery store, school. etc... It is draining on our pocketbooks, etched on our faces; time has the ability to teach us and tell us, build us and break us down.

So what do you do? How to you manage? You can't stop time. Or can you?

How many times have you wished you could go back and have a 'do over'? Lots of regrets, mistakes you wish you could fix, words you wish you could take back. Would you have taken another path and what would your life be like?

Fleeting images are always there for you to see, and thrown at you if you only choose to tune in. Your entire life will play for you.

When you meditate go beyond what's right in front of you. Go beyond next week, next year. see what the far-flung furture will be. At night direct you dreams to show you the future. Demand that you be lifted into the rhelm of what is to come and live for a short time in the body you may inhabit.

Caution: While exploring the future you came become caught up in its dreaming...try to manipulate the outcome. Remember, you are only a traveler, an explorer, an observer.