Chronocide, the Death of Time


“There is no time, and the paradox is that the only thing that keeps you from seeing the eternal is that your mind is stuck in time. So you miss what’s actually here.”


If someone were to ask me, “Peter, are you out of your mind?” I hope and pray that I can look at them with a smile and reply sincerely, “Yes!” Staying in the mind is staying in time. To meet my true self, I must leave the mind, and I must enter eternity, my true home.

To me killing time does not mean distracting myself. Killing time to me is chronocide. To break up with the addiction of time means to recognize it in its true form: as a tyrant.

There is no time. Sit with that for a moment. The “now” I am experiencing is in no way qualitatively or existentially different than the one I had yesterday. The “now” is a screen with projected forms dancing within it (sights, sounds, emotions, thoughts, desires), the “now” is me, it is the “I” when I say “I am”, because I am the essence of every moment. The “now” is always eternally the same, only the moment changes as the forms comeĀ and go like passing clouds in an empty sky.

It is only the mind that makes time; it weaves together moment to moment to moment, forever trying to guess what may be coming next either in an excited anticipation, or in crippling anxiety. It holds on to the moments gone by and lives inside their sorrow or joy. But the mind makes of life a rather dull movie, full of guesses and fading memories, while the rose blooms at your feet, never to be seen because the rose is not in view of your mind, but is in the view of only the eyes. So yes, be out of your mind, and come to you senses! After all, enlightenment is either now or never.


One can only live while intoxicated with life; as soon as one is sober it is impossible. What can capture the heart and mind of an adolescent who no longer finds joy in the toys of his youth? The only solution is to find a reallocation of his center, a refocusing of who he thought he was, to the new and abundant things of a grown up’s world.

And what can capture the heart and mind of a man who no longer finds joy or meaning in the material world? A reallocation of his center, a refocusing of who he thought he was, to the new and abundant things of the spiritual world. After all, when you have grown weary of a dream, isn’t the only solution to awaken?

Life doesn’t end, it wakes up. But how?