...To fully engage, sensorially, with one's earthly surroundings is to find oneself in a world of cycles within cycles within cycles...The telling of these (ancestral and creation) stories actively participates in a creative process that is felt to be happening right now, an ongoing emergence whose periodic renewal actually requires such participation.
Even highly unusual, extraordinary events are spontaneously assimilated to recurrent mythic prototypes. Thus, Corte's arrival on the shores of Mexico is interpreted by the Aztecs as the return of the minor god Quetzalcoatl to his kingdom...To oral cultures, human events take on meaning only to the extent that they can be located within a storied universe that continually retells itself; unprecedented events, singular encounters that have no place among the cycling stories, can have no place, either, among the turning seasons or the cycles of earth and sky.
My conception of time has changed drastically from the common consciousness of today. It is no longer units of productivity, a pie to bites off of throughout the day, an awareness to check off every now and then as you move through your tasks. Now time is surreal, while simultaneously too real. The day crawls by, refusing to be pushed by my ingrained consciousness to be productive - to move, move, move. I realised that even when the body stops acting, the mind continues to move. Restless, checking the ticking hand by the minutes. Battling against time. It is not time that has changed, is it I who has yet to replace the years of habit signaling time as productivity.
The man who later in his life is to be executed is constantly - every time that he sees a telegraph pole on his way to work, every time that he passes a railway crossing - drawing an image in his mind of the execution site, and is becoming familiar with that image.
-Temple of the Golden Pavilion