No matter in what generation you find yourself, you identify with or are influenced by the lights of your time, whether they are writers, musicians, leaders, artists, or familiars. When one of them passes, you pause to think about death, even your death. All that you know, all that you have experienced flit through your thoughts and, for a moment, disappear into nothingness. You are shaken. Then you look at your watch and remember that you have things to do and a life to live . . . yet.

I share only one thing with the artist known as “Prince.” He, like me, did not believe in time. I feel most alive when dancing with my muse or floating in the moment. It is said that Prince was prolific, that he could write a song a day. Whatever else he might have been in life, I can identify with that part of him. In a world too busy to note the only constant, Prince at least had hold of the only reality that matters.

Time passes for those who miss the moment of its passing, until it is too late to notice.