Time Passages

"Some people say that they live in the moment, but every moment is just another flicker of time. Better to live in anticipation of the next moment, so that you can make decent preparations."
~ Bob Buddha

Time Passages

Time. It's weird isn't it?

When we are working at a job, we seem to moan and groan about not having enough time to do what we really want to do in life. We file papers, make important business calls, crunch numbers, duck into the copy room to avoid the boss, do a little of this and a lot of that, try to do as little of this and avoid doing all of that as much as possible.

We insist on a full fifteen minutes for our coffee breaks, and we resent having to eat our hermetically sealed bag lunch at our desk, while we try to catch up on doing, you guessed it, more of this and that.

When it's time to go home, we go with a sigh, knowing that tomorrow will be more of the same. By the end of the day, we fall into bed, half in a stupor that we mistake for being exhausted.

We sleep and wake and wake and sleep, always peeking at the green or red digital clock numbers, always mindful of how time is seeping away, how the night is creeping towards morning, and how we should be sleeping to rest our minds and bodies for another day.

Then the weekend comes, and life drops a "free time" bomb into our laps. But there really is no such thing as free time. What do we do? We go here and we go there. We shop, we eat fast food, we deliver kids here and pick them up there, we answer and make important personal calls, we may listen to some music but only on the car stereo between here and there, and if we have a chance, we watch a favourite television show, not in "real" time but one we've recorded for when we can squeeze it into our day. By Sunday night, we wonder where the weekend went.

All in all, there is never enough time to do something that doesn't involve some kind of schedule, some kind of time frame.

"I need more time," we say to our boss, to our friends, to our families, to anyone who will listen.

"I need more time," we groan as we gulp a pot of coffee to infuse ourselves with enough caffeine to keep up with the demands of always being "on time."

"I need more time," we whine, and we do. We simply need more time. More time. More of it. A helluva a lot more of it ... but what for?

Holidays, a vacation in anywhere-but-Cuba, a day of rest and relaxation? Impossible. Whatever we do, time rears an ugly second hand that pushes us back into a schedule. Time to get back home, back to our real lives, back to work, time for this again, time for that again. And on and on it goes. Beat and repeat, minute by minute, day by day, month after month, year after year, the story of our hectic lives. Beat and repeat, not a symphony of pleasure, more a rap song of despair.

Somewhere in history, which is itself a weird measure of time in the big picture, we lost out ability to appreciate timelessness. We lost our ability to step out of time and live freely, not by seconds, minutes, or hours, but by the moods and emotions of our thoughts and by the simple physical demands of our bodies. We lost ourselves in the most unimaginable heresy of all, in the belief that time controls us instead of the other way around.

Someone once said that "Time is precious." I think that person must have meant to say that life is precious, that living is precious. Time is unrelenting. Time controls and manages everything you do. Time watches you with a detective's eye and takes indecent photos of all the mistakes into which you stumble. Time tells on you, writes denigrating reports and sends them to everyone you know. Time kills you not just in the end, but in the "mean-time" as well.

Instead of grasping and longing for more time, we need to live for timeless moments, the moment you fell in love and forgot who and where you were, the moment your small daughter or son brought you the wildest breakfast in bed while drizzling pancake syrup up the stairs, the moment your grandmother weakly clutched for your hand as you stood by her hospital bed. None of these moments can be measured in seconds, minutes, or hours. These moments last forever.

And we need to look forward to more timeless moments. We need to anticipate joy and pleasure, and ensure that our hearts and thoughts are open to the wonders of how our lives will unfold. No one can prepare for the past. Everyone can prepare for the future.

What? It's time for you to get back to work? OK, well, have a good one, as some would say. Have a good day. See you tonight at dinnertime — 5:30 sharp — bring home one of those grocery store roasted chickens and a tub of potato salad, and don't forget to set the PVR to record Dancing With The Stars tonight at 8:00. We'll watch it later in the week, when we find the time.

My time is up here anyway. I have to get my day started. So much to do, it seems, and never enough time.

Someday, time won't matter. Sadly, that will probably not be until you or I fall into an endless sleep, one from which we will never wake. Time, then, will not longer tick away at who we are or what we have accomplished. We'll be out of time and, somewhat ironically, out of time.

They say that, in the last seconds before your death, your life passes before your eyes. I can't help but think that most people, during that final, reeling montage in their minds, must look back and say, "Man, so much life wasted by so much wasted time."