At the turn of the year, this blog found itself reflecting on PLACE. Now, in March, the Spring Equinox prompts reflections on TIME and its rhythms.

In the days when we used to have tourists, Chester’s Eastgate Clock was a main attraction. It’s unusual, because you can walk under it on street level or right next to it on the walls above: literally, physically, ‘passing the time’. Close by, the four-sided clocktower on the Town Hall famously has only three clock faces – the (unlikely) story being that there is no west-facing clock because the English won’t give the Welsh the time of day. More than merely functional, clocks can tell stories.

Last weekend was the Spring Equinox, and this weekend the ‘clocks change’. And this week inbetween marks one year since the announcement of our first coronavirus lockdown. And in my own way I have been aware of being part of history this week, as I have had my first Covid jab and witnessed the wonderful thing that is the vaccination centre at Chester Racecourse, made possible by so much human effort. Historic times, history in the making. ‘May you live in interesting times’, indeed.

And so these days I have found myself thinking about Time. That Equinox moment of pure balance between day and night, sun and moon, a moment of poise and equilibrium, a tipping point between darkness and light. The lighter evenings and the dawn chorus. An anniversary as a natural marker of time, of the 365 days (more or less) our planet has orbited the sun. Day and night, seasons, years, planets, dates, history.

I think about time a lot of the time. Recently, following my remark to a shielding friend that it seemed very appropriate that she had her vaccination at the time of Candlemas, a February Festival of Light in the Christian calendar, our little WhatsApp group started to chat about festivals, special dates and the moon... One friend commented on how helpful it was to be reminded of these things, that such markers of time give some shape to what can feel like shapeless days and times, and shape keeps us going. By celebrating Time itself we make Time our companion and friend.

The joy is that we don’t have to invent such markers, festivals and celebrations. Look in any calendar and you’ll find enough special dates to make any day special. For example, here are just some for March and April this year, listed chronologically: St David’s Day; World Book Day; Commonwealth Day; International Women’s Day; Mother’s Day; First Day of Spring; St Patrick’s Day; World Water Day; British Summertime; Palm Sunday; Passover; Holi; April Fools’ Day; Maundy Thursday; Good Friday; Easter Sunday; World Health Day; Vaisakhi; the First Day of Ramadan; St George’s Day.

Celebrating or marking time seems to be connected to something deep within. Creatures that we are, of this earth, we resonate with the passage of time as it wends its way both within us and outside us. A calendar is far more than just somewhere to write appointments and things to do; it’s the story of our lives, and primal.

At RHC we draw on a long tradition of marking time. We are inspired by the calendar, and sometimes that’s religious dates and sometimes general dates. We encourage taking time (or making time) for retreat, for being attentive to the things we might not otherwise give time to. And, more deeply, underpinning much of what we do is a fundamental – primitive, perhaps – respect for time and its rhythms, which is so beautifully expressed in the ancient monastic hours. These ‘hours’ mark the passage of a day and our own journey through a day (‘journey’ from French ‘jour’ and Latin ‘dia’ for ‘day’). The monastic hours help us to ‘tune in’ to the natural rhythm to the day which we can lose in our busyness and distractions, and it is good to find that rhythm, to experience it, to connect with it. This natural rhythm can put us in touch with the heart of things; for contemporary Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast, this heart of things is ‘the life of the world, ...love, the force that moves the sun and the moon and the stars… It is the sort of thing that monks, mystics and poets come to know very well by paying close attention to the flow of hours around them.’

In our own small way, then, a Peace Day with RHC, for example, consists of a beginning inspired by the first hour of the day ‘Prime’ which marks a start to the day’s activities, a middle inspired by ‘Sext’ the noonday prayer for Peace, and a close inspired by ‘Vespers’ the evening hour of letting go of the day with thanks. And in Covid times, our Saturday morning retreats have been shaped by gathering on Zoom on the hour at 10, 11, 12 and 1, allowing us to find the natural rhythm of things, even in this most modern of ways.

From hours, we can go large to days, weeks, months, seasons, years...Our Reflective Chester project includes noticing favourite times of day, favourite ways to spend time, favourite seasons, and finds monthly themes and seasonal themes ‘taking time to notice the positive in the ordinary things that surround us every day’ – making up ‘a year of reflective living’. How we spend our time is how we live.

Our Reflective Chester logo suggests 12 hours or 12 months in the circular 12 ‘r’s

And we can go small, too – from hours to minutes to moments. The present moment of mindfulness and so important too in spirituality. The moment suggested by poet TS Eliot as the ‘still point of the turning world’. The ‘wow moment’ we notice in Reflective Chester, when we become suddenly aware of something beautiful, and eternity seems present in a moment and time stands still.

The ‘I AM’ of the present moment, here in our Abbey Square Back Room

At this time of equinox, new season, anniversary, lockdown roadmap, six weeks of Lent, Easter – or however you’re marking time – take time to notice Time. The things to notice and enjoy about time are endless. I discovered recently something about 25th March, the date on which I’m writing this blog, and in the calendar the Feast of the Annunciation, when eternity broke into Mary’s day in a visit from the Angel Gabriel with greetings of God’s favour and news of her baby whom she would call Jesus. 25th March, I learnt, was considered the first day of the year in England until 1752. It’s a day about beginnings, eternity and the present moment, and, rhythmically, it comes round every year. Happy New Year! Again!

We are very thankful for support from Cheshire West and Chester’s Let’s Turn This Around COVID-19 Fund. The grant enables us to produce this blog and run some of our activities in response to the pandemic.