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Time Keeps On Slipping Slipping Slipping

I don't think I am the only one that is perceiving time as slipping by more quickly than it used to. I have even tried just being still, laying down, and refusing to do any type of work or activity to see if I can slow it down. Every instance is met with the clock fast-forwarding at its usual warp speed.

I just turned forty-eight years old. Maybe I am crazy but wasn't my forty-seventh just the other day?

Where the fuck is time going?

The better question may be, where the hell is it coming from?

As a kid, time stretched before me as this never-ending hop between one fun holiday and the next. It seemed to move so slowly. I couldn't wait for summer. I couldn't wait for Halloween. I couldn't wait for Christmas. The anticipation killed me.

Now I wish for more time in a single day or even a week. I can't seem to fit everything in.

I know that time is a human construct to some degree. I also know that as we age, we become lost in the myriad of tasks and plans that overwhelm us, doubly so when children are involved.

I still can't help but think that some cosmic Duracell is malfunctioning and causing the minutes to tick at double, or even triple, the speed.

I do try to be mindful of the things that thwart me from my goals but life likes to take a whack at me pretty often. The best-laid plans are consistently smashed to smithereens by things that are entirely out of my control.

Seeing time as an inanimate object that we need more of is not a new concept. Poetry, music, art, and video have all explored this desperate grasping at something we can't clutch solidly within our hands. The Rolling Stones had time on their side while Jim Croce wished he could save it in a bottle. Times were changing for Bob Dylan but Cher wanted to turn it back.

Even Shakespeare wrote of the fleeting passage of time in Sonnet 19. So even four hundred years ago, when there were no distractions such as social media and television, time was swift-footed and made the seasons fleetingly short.

Being the organized nerd that I am, I try to "save" time by creating structured lists and figuring out the fastest way to do everything, simply so I can have more time to "not" do anything. I seem stuck in this behavior although it really does little to slow the ticking. I worry that it will speed by so quickly that I will miss the important moments in life. I also worry that I will slide into the nursing home full of regrets over missed minutes of import.

Every person I know, including my young kids, is feeling this effect of time slipping away at a rapid pace. None of us seem to have any answers on how to control it better. The conspiracy theorist part of my brain (don't worry; it's very tiny,) ponders that perhaps our simulated reality is being controlled by something or someone else; that they are responsible for this ludicrous passage. I don't dwell too often on this idea as it moves me into dangerous territory, and I am almost out of aluminum foil for hats.

Maybe I need to tune in a little harder and lean into the moments that make up my life. How present is present though? Is being more present and mindful going to solve this issue of time moving faster than a tesseract can tesser me?

I don't think so. I think it will just keep slipping, slipping, slipping me into the future. I better just buckle in for the ride.

The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali

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