“Time in this place,” wrote Jorge Luis Borges in his poem, Cloisters, “does not obey an order.”
I came across that poem on a plaque yesterday while visiting the Cloisters, which sits on the northern part of Manhattan and overlooks the Hudson River. It’s a second location of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and offers the visitor a replica of stunning medieval architecture.
The idea behind “cloisters” in the Middle Ages, and in New York, is to offer a place of simplicity and beauty where we can reflect, recharge, and connect with that which is greater than ourselves. It’s a place that invites us to step outside of the time we might keep on our phones or calendars and into sacred time that does not obey our desire to manage or control it.
Do you have a place like that in your life? A Cloisters? A place where time does not obey an order you seek to impose upon it?
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