Time

The Clock is Ticking

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
All, Life, Opinion Leave a Comment

Is there anyone out there who doesn’t think about time? If you are out there, please, please explain to me how you have managed to distance yourself from this life-consuming, and almost all too often, useless effort.

Good or bad, I think about time…all the time. Each day is a succinct process, nearly every action pre-planned to appease the mind. In the modern world this makes for efficiency in the work force. To me, it provides a level of comfort because it cuts down on confusion and the mess of life, even though time itself is completely uncontrollable.

As the final days of my twenties slip into memories which someday will be nothing more than foggy reflections, it has become difficult to not think of the state of life in which I live and time. Liking to think of myself as an overachiever, I wonder what would have happened if I’d not taken a four-year writing break, what if I moved to New York earlier, what if I selected a different career path or met different people? All questions to which there will never be an answer. The decisions which make these options nothing more than questions can never exist. So, we move on – because we have to.

There is a thrill to the future and being content with the past, though I’m not sure I can say I’m fully satisfied with the past. If a time machine appeared today and provided unlimited ability to alter, edit, fix, change and repair any and every moment, I’d most certainly take a ride down memory lane and fill in a few pot holes.

It is not so much wishing the past to be different that is the problem, it’s the fact the past is becoming the past, the distant past so quickly. I clearly recall eighteen months ago asking how I would ever be able to move forward and break away from one moment in time. And now the person from that moment feels like a stranger to whom I’m not familiar. Does it matter if we want to move forward? No. Time pushes us forward, like it or not, most often not.

Now I feel restless. If I can’t stop time from moving forward, and can do nothing to accelerate the rate at which it moves ahead, it becomes tiring to wait for time to pass in an effort to allow the next chapter, the next adventure. And so we count down to thirty and the wonder of what happens next…