The Clock on the Jobsite Wall

Every tick counts. Not all of them matter.

There is a clock on the job site wall.

Sometimes, it moves quickly.

Sometimes, it stands still.

But the hands never lie.

They do not bend to your mood.

They do not honor your struggle.

They simply mark the rhythm of the day.

And yet

you have felt time pass like the wind

and other times

like wet concrete refusing to cure.

This is the paradox.

Time is fixed.

But your experience of it is not.

When your thoughts wander

when your body resists

when your soul is somewhere else

the day grows heavy

the hours stretch

and the clock becomes a weight you carry

But when your mind is clear

when your hands know the way

when the work calls and you answer fully

something beautiful happens

Time dissolves

Minutes pass like water

The task and the self become one movement

and the clock disappears

This is not a trick.

It is not magic.

It is presence.

Flow is not faster work.

It is deeper work.

Whole. Quiet. True.

And it is not reserved for monks or masters.

It is available on rooftops and in trenches

in noise and dust

if you know how to return to yourself.

Return to your breath.

Return to your body.

Return to the task as if it matters.

Because it does.

Not every moment is joyful

But every moment is alive

And that is enough

The clock will keep ticking

Let it be your compass

Not your jailer

Field Note:

It is not how much time you have

It is how much of you is in the time