Marking the Passage of Time
As a kid, time is an exciting thing. I marked it by the idea of growing up and how exciting life would be when I grow up, and how I would get to do all of the things that grown-ups do. Time was marked as a rite of passage; The older I got, the more freedoms I got too like more pocket money and a later bedtime. Time was marked by ‘school is done for the day’ and ‘can Jess come over tomorrow?’ and ‘only 23 more sleeps until Christmas’. Summer holidays lasted an absolute lifetime in and of themselves and then transitioned into the excitement of ‘time for new school clothes’. Time, as a kid, was plentiful and it was exciting.
Now as an adult, time feels different. Time seems to be ticking by faster than I can account for. Time is something I can’t get back and something that can be wasted. Time is measured by work hours and dentist appointments and every third year PAP tests. Birthdays are still celebrated but without the same sense of excitement and impending freedom, and feels a little more like an egg timer counting down until I’m hard boiled. Time doesn’t seem to stand still anymore the way it used to, and maybe that’s because I no longer take the time to stand still myself. Always running around, moving from one thing to another, making the same humming sound the second hand does as it moves around the face of the clock.
Time is a social construct and it rules over our days. We can’t escape it unless we escape society itself. There are very few moments, often when in nature, that I experience a sense of timelessness. Sometimes I look up at the trees swaying in the wind and realize that I have no idea what time it is. Sure, I might know it is the afternoon, but is it 1 or 2? Maybe 3? Who knows. I don’t. And I relish those far and few moments. I inhale deeply, feeling a hidden yet ever present sense of nostalgia. A simpler time. A hint of freedom.
We spend so much time as kids wanting to grow up so we can have even more freedom, but what we don’t realize as a kid is that this is as free as it gets.
