Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon and evening outdoors with friends old and new as we wandered the cobblestone streets of the Hans Christian's fairy tale capital, Copenhagen. While the darkness approached fullness, as we celebrated the anticipated return of the light, there came a moment that the Siberian wind deepened the chill, and deciding to seek refuge we ducked into one of my favourite places, Cafe Nord on Heron Square, for Gløgg, hot spiced wine, and a bowl of soup.
As I sat down my eyes wandered across the room to the opposite wall, and my heart was warmed even further than the reunion shared as friendships old and new deepened. There in the arched 18th Century window a pair of white candles, half-metre tall, glowed against the blue gloaming, a colour unique to winter sunsets in Scandinavia. The candle light was one thing; but the most profound meaning I felt was in the reflective nature of the 2 mirrors in the middle of the 11 clocks beside the arc. Each told a different time and called into memory moments passed and yet to be. Like the cookies on either side of an Oreo, they conspired to make our time in that space all the sweeter.
They also reminded me how many years and time zones separate me from those I love so dearly, family and friends on the planet and now departed who never leave my heart and are in my thoughts so often.
But perhaps the lesson in the moment was not of zones and different times but the fact that not one of these clock worked yet all were 'correct' twice a day, every day. It seems that in Eternity we are right on time and whether we recognise it or not the timing is truly divine for with ever breath we pass the past and begin anew.
And so it is I breathe, inhaling love and exhaling gratitude as I think of you.