I have spoken at length in the past about the concept of time. It always seems to be a topic that is left up to interpretation because it is not tangible. A few years back my dad sent me an article from "Bassmaster" magazine explaining why time seems to move faster after we turn forty. It has something to do with a concept called "proportional theory." That concept points out a year is 1/50th of a fifty-year-old life and the same 365 days are only 1/10th of a ten-year-olds life. It went on to explain that within our brains our lives are relived in a series of pictures and the older we are the more pictures there are to sort through. I don't know if I fully buy into this concept, but it certainly is an interesting one. It does however make me feel better about my own form of insanity. I try to never go all in on any theory developed by other human beings, I mean look at what happened to the people who followed Jim Jones. While we are in discussion of those that lead others astray, I would be remiss if I didn't point out that Jim Baker is back on the air peddling his own kooky brand of snake oil. But seriously, have you ever tried to oil a snake? He is currently trying to sell an elixir that he claims can cure everything from Covid 19 to ingrown toenails. And it seems the federal government has already intervened with a cease-and-desist letter telling him to knock it off. The point is, don't allow people who are one sandwich shy of a picnic steal your time from you, it's too precious. Supersize that Big Mac meal and have that second slice of apple pie because life is too short, and we are not guaranteed tomorrow, we might not even be guaranteed the rest of today. It should be noted I am NOT a health care professional, and any medical advice dispensed in this article should be taken with a grain of salt, (or sand) depending on the advice of your cardiologist.
In my own concept of time, I find I am much happier if I pay less attention to the ticking of the clock. To ask a rhetorical question, isn't it okay to waste time if we enjoy wasting time? Have you ever watched the movie Castaway? The moral of that story is that you can never fully appreciate the simplicity of your life until you are forced to stop counting the number of the grains of sand slipping through the hourglass. In other words (spoiler alert) because he was so married to his work, he put off going to the dentist and now he was stuck on a desert island with all the time in the world to contemplate his pain and how he regretted not taking the time to marry the woman he loved. How many times have you had relatives coming to visit and your first question is always "what TIME do you think you will be here." Is that question really necessary? I mean it's not like you are putting chicken fried steak on the table like granny did. In addition, most of us don't ask it out of needing to know, it's more of a habit that has been passed down through the generations. My grandpa Lightcap was practically a slave to his wristwatch, but it should be pointed out that sickness never helped him "suck the marrow out of life." It seems to me that his fascination with the seconds hand just removed the joy out of his life. In essence, he never could fully embrace the moment he was in because he was forever worried that he might not get another one. He never could find it in his heart to settle down long enough to seize the happiness out of any given space that was provided in life because he was hyper-focused on the next. He would have made a fascinating case study for a renowned shrink given that he could have sat still long enough for it. He was that grandpa that was always obsessed with (and I quote) "making good time" and required that we always traveled with an empty Mountain Dew bottle just in case.
Part of the reason I am so scarily aware that time exists stems from the fact that I still have to punch a time clock every day. Not unlike Fred Flintstone I often yell "yabba dabba do" when I am clocking out for the day. The twenty-somethings I work with are perplexed by this and I am fine with that. The only way I know how to sidestep a time clock is to agree to a set salary, but I'm not going for that, once a company has set you on that path chances are you will be enslaved for life. It should be noted that the Aboriginal natives of Australia do not even have a name for the concept of time. When they were broached with the subject, they referred to it as "dream time." Dreamtime in their culture is widely understood as the beginning of that which has no end. This concept makes complete sense to me, because if a person is not worried about time running out, they are a whole lot more likely to enjoy the time they are given.
Comments