I’ve been noticing something I can’t quite explain.
Time doesn’t feel the same.
Some days move quickly —
full, busy, gone before I realize it.
And other days stretch in a way that feels almost unfamiliar.
Longer.
Quieter.
Heavier in a way that isn’t obvious, but still there.
Nothing about the clock has changed.
But the way I experience it has.
There are moments that pass without much thought.
And then there are moments that linger —
that I can feel while I’m inside them.
Not because anything big is happening.
Just because I’m more aware.
Of where I am.
Of what I’m carrying.
Of how different things feel than they used to.
I don’t know if time is actually moving differently
or if I’m just paying attention in a way I didn’t before.
But I can tell something has shifted.
I’m not rushing through everything the same way.
I’m not trying to get to the next thing as quickly.
I’m noticing more.
Even the in-between parts.
The parts of the day that don’t really have a name.
And maybe that’s what this is.
Not a change in time.
Just a change in how I’m living inside of it.
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
— Psalm 90:12 (NIV)