Time

So, holidays:

The Outpost Apostolic Church is one of the Orthodox churches, so they usually celebrate Easter on different dates than everyone else, because they use the Julian calendar to calculate its date. Why? So as to keep in step with those Orthodox churches that still use the Julian calendar across the board — by the way, that’s why Russian Christmas is on the 7th or the 8th of January. This surreal decision stems from the self-evident decision not to correct the calendar just because some pope fellow decided to, a mere 500 years ago (Orthodox churches are very slow: I would wager they will seriously debate priesthood for women in 50 years or so). In any case, the above meant that this year’s Easter was on May Day, with Christians and workers rejoicing together (or maybe not).

Hence I took a holiday. I visited my parents’ home. Although they are still alive and well, the place already feels like revisiting a distant memory, a feeling oddly juxtaposed with familiarity and recognition. This was augmented by seeing an old school mate in the street, totally by chance. She was pregnant, which was very strange, her being the only genuine 15 year old rebel I used to know back then. She was smiling, as ever, and did not recognise me. Talking to her felt like tactless intrusion. So I did not.

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4 thoughts on “Time

  1. I’ve been away from home, or what used to be home, for nearly eight years now, but I have returned a couple of times. I’ve always found it strange when I consider how much my life has changed over the years.

    I never thought I’d be in the army until I had to serve for six months back in 97. Sometimes I tell myself, “Tom, you’ve been in the army!” And surprised, I answer, “Shit! That’s right!” It’s as if I’d forgotten.

    What’s odd is that your life can change dramatically, and yet you get so used to it that it almost becomes banal. When I go back to Canada, I can’t decide whether things have changed a lot, or not changed at all. I’m out of touch with things there, yet the time since my last visit, or even the past eight years, becomes compressed, as if I haven’t really been away at all.

    It’s an unpleasant feeling. It’s like having to admit that even the most significant events in your life have failed to make an impression on you. You can go to another country, serve in the army, live all sorts of adventures — become a different person in effect — and somebody you haven’t seen in over ten years comes up to you and says, “Hey! What’s new?”

  2. 50 years? Try 100 and even that is rather optimistic. The orthodox church is not slow..it’s in stasis(apart from its business ventures which seem to be quite up to date)

    🙂

  3. Pingback: “… neither reveals nor conceals” » Small fry

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