Since I moved to Hawaii four years ago, a state so breathtakingly beautiful that I’m still in disbelief every morning I wake up here, I’ve noticed a repeated pattern that must have a deeper meaning beyond anything I’ve ever heard or read about: when I look at a clock — at home, work, anywhere — the time is often precisely on the hour or half hour.
It happens when I wake out of deep sleep and check the time: it’s 2 or 4 or 5 a.m. It happens when I’m at work, look at my computer, and see 11 a.m. or 1 p.m. When I am home in the evening with my family and decide it is time to eat, it’s 6 or 7 p.m.
Rarely when I check is the time not to the hour or half hour, say 5:17 or 11:12, for example.
I’ve never owned a watch nor an alarm clock. Friends at college could not figure out how I never missed a morning class.
I come from generations of farmers. In their honor, I greet the day before the sun or rain do. I sleep when it’s dark. I try to live simply, not turn on a light unless I absolutely have to. When I lived in a monastery, the monks used to say that we arose at 4 a.m. so our prayers would be heard before the world was filled with noise.
But until I moved to Hawaii, I never experienced the phenomenon of time almost standing still on the hour or half hour. It’s almost like I’m in a movie where a greater than life message is being imparted to me.
Only that I don’t know what that message is.
Dear Readers, could any of you share your wisdom about what this could be?