My good friend Chris recently told me that his son is 14 years old, the very same age that Chris was when I first met him years ago. As I watch the snow falling outside of my window. I think of how fleeting time is -- how just like the snowflakes, the days (and years) come and then melt away. As we prepare to close out one year and usher in the next, I find myself reflecting a lot about time. In fact, I just read a poem this week that began, "What is time?". Time is a strange thing. It has different significance depending on where I am in my life. When I'm at work, my eye is forever on the clock to ensure that I arrive at a meeting or appointment at the designated moment. When I'm not at work, however, time takes on such a different meaning and pace. It rarely matters if it's 11AM, 2PM or 7PM. I'm more in touch with the sky and the seasons and I live more in the moment as part of that life-rhythm calendar. As we step up the pace of modern life and place demands on ourselves with schedules that are jam-packed with commitments, are we really accomplishing more? Truly experiencing or enjoying more? I hardly think so. I learned during the last months of my mom's life that time is ephemeral. It isn't about the quantity of our years so much as it is about the quality. The years will fly by and when I reflect back on them, will I want to see the blur of the race or the precious, discrete moments that brought such profound beauty and joy? I don't want to hurry anymore. The time I have been given is a gift and I'm going to savor each moment. That's my new year's resolution and my wish for us all.