Time is an incredibly fickle thing. I've spent most of my life being worried about it. I worry about being on time, I worry about having enough time, I worry about how I spend my time... spend, as if it were a fortune we're born with and give away as we age.
Being twenty-six, people are fond of telling me exactly how much time they think I have. They tell me that, in time, my opinions on children and marriage will change. They attempt to assuage my career frustrations by saying I have plenty of time to figure it out. Come to think of it, most frustrations I've ever vocalized are typically met with a resounding "just give it time".
We talk, as a society, about time as if it were a guarantee. I admit to feeling the same. My friend and I used to talk about our five-year-plans as if they were a birthright. She would talk about career goals, eventual marriage, and we'd sit in comfortable conversation thinking about the wealth of happiness time would bring us.
She died three months ago.
Suddenly time takes on new meaning when you realize its chaotic nature. Strip away the comfortable façade of false assurances - you realize that time is a fallacy, and should never be used for rational argument.
Nothing is guaranteed, not even five years. And while I would like to take the opportunity to spout idealistic carpe diem sentiments, I won't. As much as I would like to believe that anything in this life is possible, we are confined by our circumstances. I wish that Rachel's death spurred me to quit my job and travel the world - because time is precious and we should constantly be working towards achieving our dreams. But I have neither the financial or knowledgeable means to do such things.
The realization of the fallacy of time teaches us a lesson, but it doesn't necessarily free us of the confines of our reality. I haven't quit my job to move to Scotland. I haven't started planning a cross country, soul-searching road trip. I haven't published that book I've been meaning to work on.
Conversely, I have identified and begun deconstructing the irrational fears that hold me hostage in my current situation. I have confronted my nature and found peace and confidence within myself. I appreciate trees in a way that would make a poet weep.
I'm grateful for the time I've been given, and intent do with it what I can.
