Time Is the Length to Forever: A Back Door Opens . . .

By Dr. Donna Clovis

A backdoor suddenly opens, a descent down the rabbit hole—a book within a book within a book.

“Another journey through Princeton's history, but this time, the focus is on empowerment, with a less-than-subtle nudge to the skills of listening and compassion. Flawlessly interwoven with synchronicity, this is another masterpiece by Dr. Clovis” (Alison Ward).

“The anecdotes that stand out are stories of Ms. Ida B., an elderly Princeton woman whom the author interviewed for her first book and later befriended. It’s clear Ms. Ida B. is not merely an interview subject, but part of Clovis’ life . . . It’s a moment of welcome candor. An inspiring, lyrical fusion of pertinent social issues and the writer’s own experiences” (Kirkus Reviews).

“The stories fall in her lap by a masterful design, almost with the precise intent of being unveiled to readers by the unique craft she should trademark” (Giordana Marioni).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Sep 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781982210595

Dr. Donna Clovis

Dr. Donna Clovis is an adjunct professor at Rider University with a doctorate from Columbia University.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 Dr. Donna Clovis.

Author Credits: Journalist and Professor

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1058-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1060-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1059-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018909914

Balboa Press rev. date: 08/29/2018

Contents

CONTENTS

Foreword: The Seeds of Change That Lie Within

Chapter 1 The Tower

Chapter 2 The Opening Eclipse

Chapter 3 A Solitary Light Confined

Chapter 4 Music From A Roomful Of Teeth As The Universe Sings

Chapter 5 The Princeton Carillon Tolls For Vegas

Chapter 6 Town And Gown

Chapter 7 Layers Of Offense Called Boy

Chapter 8 Wishing Upon A North Star

Chapter 9 Thinking Makes One Forget To Talk

Chapter 10 Sitting On The Backs Of The Bruised

Chapter 11 The Green Light On The Street

Chapter 12 Finding The #Us In #Metoo

Chapter 13 Trapped In A Circle

Chapter 14 The Price Of A Haircut

Chapter 15 A Legacy Left Of Genius

Chapter 16 A Shortcut To Milan

Chapter 17 Drumthwacket, The Wooded Hill

Chapter 18 Black Ice

Chapter 19 Fifty Flashbacks From Pinot To Picasso

Chapter 20 That Vinyl You Like

Chapter 21 It’s Always Tea Time

Chapter 22 Frozen Nightmares

Chapter 23 Dimensions Of Time Through Computer Space

Chapter 24 Every Woman Under The Roof

Chapter 25 Making House Calls

Chapter 26 Dreamer In A Nightmare

Chapter 27 Stretching Time As An Exercise In Moments

Chapter 28 The Master Professor’s Equation

Chapter 29 Drowning In Tears

Chapter 30 A Watch Doesn’t Tell The O’clock

Bibliography

Works Cited

Appendix I: One Moment in Time by Dr. Donna Clovis

Appendix II: Synchronicity: Quantum Consciousness in the Extreme

What is time anyway when you have an eternity?

Time Is the Length to Forever

A backdoor suddenly opens down the rabbit hole: a book within a book within a book…

Other Books in the Series

Quantum Leaps in Princeton’s Place

Six Doors Down

The Future Is My Past

This book is dedicated to:

My husband Jim, Michaela, Justin, Matthian,

my parents, grandparents,

and all who are connected

in the past, present, and future of my lifetime…

And thank you, Gabriella Oldham, my editor.

Time Is the Length to Forever

She pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and summer days.

— Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

FOREWORD

THE SEEDS OF CHANGE THAT LIE WITHIN

To survive, you must tell stories.

— Umberto Eco, Italian novelist and translator

In the Princeton University garden, there is a gift of quietness except for two squirrels that scamper past the sidewalk before me. Monarch butterflies are busy on lavender. Lime moss covers this ancient ground. Cut cultured greens segue into October foliage on this crisp cool canvas of an autumn day.

It is a silent synergy that brings me to reflect upon my aging face found in the ripples of the water. The cherub foundation mirror waters of time that circulate through a spouted mouth speaking in gurgles, then gasps a gargle.

White dandelions dance as fur atop purple thistle thorns, spike seeds in the wind. For the seeds of change lie within and the buds will blossom in their own time. And I finally realize for transformation to happen, the seeds of who we are to become are already in place, awaiting a narrative destiny to unfold. It is a journey to rediscover the power that exists within already.

I don’t need to be helped any longer. I always had the power to tell my story. I am the only one who can tell my story. My mind was always free. It was never burdened by the captivity of past slavery and segregation or the deception of a negative self-fulfilling prophecy. I had to learned this for myself with time, experience, and maturity. But there’s knowing something and now really KNOWING it.

It is here in this garden that I write, blossoming forth my fourth book of my descent into a rabbit hole: a book within a book within another book. The hourglass of time turns over and over. It is spinning sand as virtual grains so minute into a mound. It accumulates a mountain of old age, this now a memoir. The back door into the trilogy is always open. It keeps my books about Princeton alive.

CHAPTER

1

THE TOWER

The Future Is My Past, The End of the Trilogy, was just published and featured in the bookstore in Princeton on October 10, 2017. The bookstore was filled with avid readers and students standing like curious columns centered around the room of crowded chairs. I had finished the writings about Princeton.

So I thought. But other events were now taking place.

I started my new job at Rider University teaching English and Theater. Then I also received an offer to supervise a student teacher of English as a Second Language. As I accepted the additional offer, I was told the location: Princeton High School.

Again, I am summoned by synchronicity to continue the scripting stories. I am not allowed to leave the listening and experiences of story in the town of Princeton. I am Princeton’s designated scribe of seasons, time, and events. Suddenly, I am transported back into a memory. I returned immediately to report in the Tower.

The brick Tower still stretches upwards, scratching the sky. Somehow the scene had not changed much except for the overgrowth of deciduous trees and the many years of time passage. The cumulonimbus clouds hung low in ghastly memories of the past. I had taught similar young high school students like those seen strolling about. Nowadays, students model clothes with Uggs of 2018, cellphones in hand and fickle fingers fondling the keypads furiously outside the building campus.

I walked through the same archway as if walking backwards into time. I had exited the same doors in 1996. This time I am a much older woman. I am able to hide the wrinkles beneath a youthful smile. I am able to block the aging mechanisms of skinless time.

The high school in Princeton still serves all four-year public school students.

Built in 1898, the school mirrors and replicates a piece of Princeton University.

I step across the threshold, somehow transported into a historical architecture that never changes, but rather converts the experience of adolescence into a timeless void except for the electronics. Captured cellphones have no service inside these walls and are rendered useless in this vacuum of Princetonian time. There are no beeps, tweets, or ring tones. Just the silence of learning as it was more than twenty years ago for me. But almost a century for the ghostly gray inhabitants of this old town, exists a then-segregated white ivory tower hovering over space in full control.

CHAPTER

2

THE OPENING ECLIPSE

The roads into Princeton are blocked off by police vehicles. Silent red lights swirl in the center of the streets protecting Palmer Square. All heads tilt upward. Stare into the sunlit sky. The blue brightness gently dims into three quarters of sun-blocked darkness. No, it is not the alien landing in nearby Plainsboro’s second coming for War of the Worlds. But this is another equal and unusual event of historical significance—a solar eclipse.

Princeton is not in the path of absolute totality, but a dimness haze of gray at 80% darkness. Despite the full totality moment, about two thousand people show up with protective glasses in Palmer Square for the solar eclipse viewing party on August 21, 2017 from 1:00 to 4:00.

Stripped green and white lawn chairs, baby strollers, and blankets of all colors and designs are accompanied by snacks. Protective glasses provided by the Princeton Public Library cover all faces.

Wait. Watch. Look! a mother pointed to her young son. It’s coming. It’s coming!

Where? said six-year-old twins as they gaze through their dark paper glasses.

From large looming sophisticated telescopes to hand-made cereal boxes, all types of stellar-watching apparatus scatter the streets. Astronomers from Princeton University’s Department of Astrophysics roam the crowd to answer questions and provide information to the curious.

Soon the sun slowly becomes visible again. It is a bright golden countenance casting its summer shadow. The crowds disperse. And the moon moves out of the way. It returns to its home in the darkness of evening as a night light in a black bedroom sky.

CHAPTER

3

A SOLITARY LIGHT CONFINED

On any day in autumn, one can peer through the archway of the East Pyne Courtyard on the Princeton University campus in the shadow of its blackness. Through the twilight tunnel, one views the flaming orange and yellow leaves of a maple tree standing alone in sunlight.

And on this late September 15 evening, the huddle of a crowd grows shielded by the brick and mortar of this Princetonian architecture. There is a vigil for their fellow classmate, imprisoned. The sound of many a single-flamed candlelight whispers with a soft speech of song. Mood somber. Voices sweet. They speak of injustice. Like the lone maple tree, Princeton University graduate student, Xiyue Wang, 36, remains jailed a solitary hostage in Iran. For his confinement was just made manifest by a ten-year sentence for espionage.

His wife, Hua Qu, in checkered blue dress with black bangs, a bob, speaks first. She calls upon the government. She glances over her dark glasses and pauses. He was only working on research for his dissertation. Hua starts again. There needs to be more done to free him. She demands that the United States stand for academic freedom. My hopes are shattered day by day… she said.

Memories are spoken by his advisor, Professor Stephen Kotkin. Then other friends and family speak and remember. Other supporters talk about the newly created Facebook page, Save Xiyue Wang.

Hundreds of candles listen like a soft glow breathing. Candle lamps quietly guide their feet upon the walkway.