We hear a lot about sensemaking nowadays, but it is meaning making that we are in need of most of all. Meaning making requires a special, paradoxical kind of time—at once deliberate and unintentional. This special time allows for the possibility for meaning to arise in the middle of things: between the lines of the text and the mind of the reader, between the different voices sharing conversation. Making meaning is a temporal art, and a culture that admits to having no time admits to having no meaning. No soul. This sort of time must be found, not forced. It is something we cannot make happen, but only encourage: like growing things in the garden.