In Hoi An, Vietnam, I sat on the beach listening to the waves crash and the wind blow through the palm trees. I felt the sun warm my skin and the sand rub between my toes. I collected sea shells and strung them onto a bracelet. Time does not exist on the beach.

These days, I rarely acknowledge time and am grateful for its absence. 

In my life before traveling, I cursed time. Time was the enemy - there was never enough of it. I was always conscious of it. When paid for my time, clock hands slowed to a painful tick-tock-tick-tock. When I had "free" time, those same hands twirled around in a blink. The more I paid attention to time, the more burden time gave me. 

Now, I have "no time" and am thankful for the peace that fills the void.