Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
Robert Herrick‘s "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time."
Time. How does someone write about time?
What time is to you is not what time is to another. How you spend your moments—your seconds—are unique in weight of value. Some may be happy to allow the hours to slip by without notice, whereas others have a close relationship with the clock. We bargain with time, try to buy more of it, mourn over losing it. It is simple to say that we are obsessed with time.
If you challenge yourself to go a full day without the dependency of a clock, you’ll notice the anxiety almost immediately. What time did you get to campus? How will you know if you’re running late?
This is because we have enslaved ourselves to the numbers we created to help document the passing of time. One of the best examples to our need to label the seconds in which we live is to go camping. And I mean real camping. When I settled into my tent at the Grand Canyon, I didn’t know what time I went to bed. I slept when I was tired and ate when I was hungry. I planned my outdoor adventures when the sun was still high in the sky and traveled back to camp when sunset arrived. My phone was for emergencies, not for telling how many hours were left in the day. I was going to bed at eight, when it just became dark, and woke when the sky lit up in the early morning. I lived without numerals, and I was happier.
But that was because I was in nature, where time is translated into seasons and daylight. Back into civilization, I am ruled by the clock again. Wake up at this number, make sure I am at this location when the digits turn to that combination. Follow the clock, obey the clock.
Telling the time helps us comprehend the smaller moments that are passing. For the bigger chunks of time, we can tell with our bodies. Our hair grows, we earn wrinkles and scars. Bodies become living timelines, proof of enduring the past and being present for the possible future. Time changes us to remind ourselves that we too follow the laws of passing moments.
Time molds our minds and marks our existence. How we chose to accept time is how we chose to explain it. Some may preach that every minute is worth your best, while others say better days are ahead. Sitting on the couch may be a waste of time, or a perfectly liable usage of time. Because really, isn’t every moment a good use of time? How can there be a bad use of time when using time is simply all that time exists for? We comprehend time in a style to where there is a method of worth so we can judge and label it.
Just think how a squirrel doesn’t share our perspective, yet we consider animals as always productive since they focus on surviving. Does that mean we aren’t, because time to us is about modern value now?
Obviously this is a rant. But I am writing to hopefully challenge minds to face their realities on what they consider time to be for them. Is time organized for you, or chaotic events to follow? How often do you check the clock and determine your next decision on what it reads? Do you obey time, or do you obey the clock?
