When we were young a day was an enormous passage of time. A few hours at the beach would stretch out toward infinity. It lasted forever. Thirty minutes at the playground felt like an entire day. Clocks used to run slower then. And one moment, frozen in our memory, sometimes informs the rest of our lives. Who does not have a lasting memory of being told you were thick-headed or stupid? Or being chosen last at the game? Or being told how intelligent/beautiful/clever/incompetent you were? This moment stands out in our thoughts and comes back time and again reminding us of that powerful event that stays with us the rest of our lives. A split second comment we heard at six years old resonates eighty years later.
With age, time speeds up significantly as days blur into weeks. We are still impacted by what happens to us but those moments do not become as calcified in our mind’s eye as earlier, youthful events…and everything happens so much more quickly!
Years pass, weeks quicken to months, and ultimately years spin into decades as memories tend to gel and blend into a giant mosaic sometimes resembling more Jackson Pollack than a Rembrandt. No longer individual pictures, we begin to remember our life’s events as a narrative with large panels depicting the flow of time.
Certain ideas become the sole focus that we pursue at specific segments at moments in story of our life. When were young it was usually mastering some art like running, swimming, gymnastics, creative projects... School became our primary focus as we grew to understand that much of this learning would eventually develop into an amorphous idea called a “profession” which would yield virtually everything that we needed for the rest of our life.
Responsibilities mounted. Whether children, relations, dogs, home, car or possessions the amount of energy required to simply stay still is enormous. We yearn to slow down for time to creep forward the way it used to when we were young.
And then one day we are beyond the exigencies of crafting a career, amassing wealth and possessions. Adrift, what are our priorities as we settle into the winter of our lives? Have we missed opportunities? Can we reclaim what was lost?
Norman Vincent Peale remarked that when he was young the ticking of his grandfather’s clock was ponderous. “It seemed to say, “There—is--plenty – of –time. There—is--plenty – of –time. There—is--plenty – of –time. There—is--plenty – of –time.” But modern clocks, having a shorter pendulum with a swifter stroke, seem to say, “Time to get busy! Time to get busy! Time to get busy! Time to get busy! ”
Maybe it's time to get a new internal clock, one that covets and savors each precious moment, as when we were young.
