We are programmed, our very internal clocks have attuned themselves to, the seven-day cycle of the thing known as the week.
You work, dawdle, think, play, live during your week. Then old Sunday comes along and brings with it the evening. It's the ending of something. It's the denouement of the tiny opera that was the preceding six days of your life. A microcosm of things happened - things went smoothly, things were shitty, perhaps you reached a particular milestone; you learned things, you looked out windows, got drunk, took care of something or someone, had reactions to events, had sex, had no sex, or maybe ate a giant bowl of pasta. On Sunday, all those things come to end.
Is this in any way oppressive? For the most part, I am down with the current calendar system. Time being the most precious resource, I appreciate that it is constructed in accordance with the seasons and, ultimately, the sun. This is our most fundamental connection to traditional Paganism (sshh! Don't tell the Christians!) and I value that very much. It's just a little strange, isn't it, that no matter what may be happening with our emotional ebb and flow, things come to a head at this particular time every seven days.
Actually though - as I process this I begin to see - it's not just that it's the end of something. It's that it's the beginning of something as well. There is no knowing what the next week will bring. Even when you're in a calm period of your life, there is always the slight panic of the unknown. Beginnings bring us face to face with the infinity of possibility. How we face that is maybe an indicator of how life is going.
These Sundays, I'm feeling lost. A little unknown. But I feel acceptance for the unknown, as well as my being in some ways unknown, and I'm old enough now that I know how to treat these strange turns in the road. I draw a tarot card. I read a poem that I know and love well. I let the hot water of the shower run over me for several silent minutes. And I touch that thing, just with the tip of my finger - that thing so intrinsic to the universe that it transcends all measurements of space and time. And there are no questions. Just a calm perception that the thing called "Monday" brings a new era of possibility, chance, wreckage and miracles. I am ready.
