At twenty years old, I was determined to figure out my mission, develop a plan, and begin a journey of service. I decided to twist my hair into locks and declared that I would have a path to follow without reservation when my hair draped my shoulders and chest. It took eight years to reach that point, and I am satisfied to say that, in that time, I developed a passion for classical Chinese medicine, Qigong, Taijiquan, Tuina massage, joined Wudang West, and challenged myself to study acupuncture Chinese medicine at three different schools, in three different cities, between two states. My locks were a physical representation of time, and when the day came to cut them, I was content with my decisions in the time it took to get there.

Time becomes insurmountable when a person believes in its theories and lives by its laws. When it no longer leads life and momentary decisions take the reins, time is a figment of the imagination. What happens to time during an honest, unbridled laugh? When does time resume after the loss of a close loved one? When we consciously harmonize ourselves with the seasons and the waning of night and day, our experiences are given a different significance for that duration. And as a self-care practice, we continue because we can continue. We practice Qigong so we may practice Qigong. Using “time” is stressful and counter-productive to cultivating the personal skills necessary to become a truly impactful healer.

 I internalized my vow without considering time. I only knew how to follow my instincts and trust my decisions. So, for the sake of time, I will be brief and repose with the words of the Apostle Thomas: If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you bring forth what is not from within you, what you bring forth will destroy you. In my journey of self-discovery, time is no longer a factor, and I encourage you to do the same: live in the moment, not by tracking time.