Fast forward. This morning I grabbed a bunch of clothes to throw them in the washing machine as I needed a clean pair of shorts for work. I checked every pocket on every item, just like I always do. Every pocket except the one I never use. The right-side chest pocket on my flannel. Clothes go in. Water goes in. Soap goes in. Lid goes shut. Timer goes on. Easy.
After thirty minutes time I head back down to the laundry area to remove the wet clothes from the waging machine and put them into the dryer. This is when I see my camera, resting lifelessly on the bottom of the agitator.
My first reaction was frustration. Frustration with myself for forgetting to check the pocket and frustration with myself for being so absent minded.
My second reaction was, it's just a thing. A thing that doesn't contain life and isn't necessary. A thing that is nice to have, but doesn't make or break my life. A thing that came easily and will potentially leave easily.
I mention the latter because for a long time in my life I would have been put back by an event like this for a while. I would have stewed over the fact that the camera was expensive and that I don't have the money to replace it. I would have been in a bad mood for days. I would have...but I'm not.
Something happened this summer between the beginning of June and the end of August. Something changed the way I look at things. Something came to rest in my mind that had been stirring for years. That something is Medora Time.
The idea of Medora Time isn't new. The name, for me anyway, is unique and something I can easily identify in times of stress or fatigue, but the concept is as old as man himself. Medora Time isn't calculated by minutes or hours. It isn't recordable. It's just a frame of mind that says "everything is just as it should be". It lacks expectation and judgement. It is being present. It just is.
Cameras come and go. So do bikes. So do cars. So do people. Everything is impermanent. Everything except Medora Time.