Is Time Really A Constant?

There is way too much truth in the saying ‘the older you get the faster time flies’.  Some thirty years ago I really didn’t understand what people were talking about, now I get it, and I really don’t think it’s funny. Nope, not at all!  Honestly, it doesn’t even make sense. Time and the movement of time do not change. Time is constant so why in the world does it ‘go faster’ as we get older?  You’ve got to admit even just the concept of the idea is incredibly annoying.

Although in fact time is virtually the same day in and day out, year after year, life after life, it really does have the appearance of existing as a variable. And that variable can change depending on our age, our circumstances, and our mindset. It’s kind of like standing in the kitchen waiting for a pan of water to boil.  Try it.  The wait can feel like hours. But leave the room, check your emails, use the restroom, and the water will begin to boil in an instant. My husband learned that lesson several years back when he put some eggs the stove.  He swears he had left the room for just a minute. But when he returned?  The remains of the eggs were plastered to the kitchen ceiling, the floor and the counters.  The house smelled of burned eggs for days.  I’m thinking time really is not a constant.

As a little kid I clearly remember wishing with anxious anticipation for the day I would reach adulthood.  I had big plans to take the world by storm
and leave my mark, and I could hardly wait to do it.  Then I turned twenty and for the next few years I did seem to find my stride.  For whatever reason time at that point became a non-issue.  I graduated from college, got married, moved out of state, and had kids.  We had plenty of time and for the most part we enjoyed every minute we had.  I suppose there were days or moments when time seemed to either fly by too quickly, or slow down like watching a pan of water boil.  I have very distinct memories of my oldest daughter and her bout with colic.  Three months of constant blood-curdling screaming, very little sleep, and an overabundance of tears (mine and hers), still feels like a lifetime. But those types of moments were few and far between.

I think it was around the age of 35 when I looked at my kids and wondered – who are these little people?  These young girls talk non-stop, they go to school, they’re engaged in activities like softball and dancing, they make funny jokes, and they have grandiose dreams that involve princes and castles.  Just the day before they were babies and I had been changing their diapers and chasing them around the house and wondering what terrific skill they would learn next.  It had hit – time had shortened and I knew I had to do everything I could to savor each moment, each experience. My grandparent’s words echoed in my brain –  the older I got the more quickly time would disappear.

Admittedly I had instances around the years when my girls hit the ages of fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen, when I wanted time to speed up.  They were not always the most cheerful, they struggled with who they were and how to act, and they didn’t always make the best choices.  That’s a part of being a teenager, I know that, but some days the struggle hit the fan and I wanted to get beyond those years. At those instances I really just wanted time to fly by. I felt bad about that, I knew it was wrong, but that was my reality.

Soon my kids will both be out of the nest so to speak.  And we have many more years and many more events to look forward to. Graduating our kids from college, weddings, grandchildren, vacations with just the two of us, job opportunities, books to get published, and so on.  When I put it here on paper it gives the appearance that we still have all kinds of time. And we do, but as crazy as it sounds, time will fly by.

There are days that I just know that I’ll wake up the next morning and another thirty years will gone just like that. I’ll wonder where all that time went and what I actually did. Did I contribute, did I laugh enough, did I slow down and enjoy my friends and family, or was I too busy and did I miss out on all of the good stuff? The older you get I suppose the more you recognize your own mortality.  The friends and family you have now won’t be around forever. Some might pass on in the next ten or fifteen years, heck, one of them could be you!  Time is what we have, and I want to enjoy it.

Okay, I am sounding a tad morbid, and that’s really not my goal. I’m thinking about my own perspective and working on enjoying life as much as I possibly can.  Every day really is a blessing – whether it’s one filled with positive emotions and good tidings, or one that’s wrought with anxiety and frustration. It’s still a day, and every day should in some way or another be celebrated and appreciated.

Guess I’m going to keep working on that. I know that time is going to fly by.  That can’t be helped. But I can choose to pay attention.  There’s no sense in rushing through everything and worrying about it and fretting over all of the small stuff.  No, life is too precious as are the people around me and the goals I have in front of me.  I think the next time I’m bored, the next time I want the lady at the grocery store to hurry up, the next time I feel anxious and can’t wait for time to pass, I’ll make an effort to remember this blog.  What the heck, maybe it will help and I’ll actually take a few seconds to simply appreciate the moment.  It certainly won’t hurt.

The Eight Letter Word I’ve Never Liked

Patience, patience, patience…nope, no matter how many times I say it, I’m just not a big fan of the word.  Sure – patience is a virtue, good things come to those who wait, you can never have too much patience, blah blah blah.  Guess it’s quite clear – patience and I just don’t go hand in hand.

I’m pretty certain I never have been too terribly adept at the waiting game. I remember spending an incredible amount of time and energy not wishing to wait as a young child, especially when my mother was on the telephone.  I’m not sure why, but it seems as though a lot of our mother’s used to engage in very lengthy phone conversations with the neighbors back in the 1970’s.   And it never failed, once she got on the phone I had to talk to her and I had to ask her a question.  She would snap her fingers, shush me with her lips, and probably lightly swat my behind, but I couldn’t wait. I’m sure my issues were minimal. Perhaps I wanted a dish of ice cream, or one of my brothers said something to annoy me.  Whatever the incident, it absolutely had to be dealt with right away.

And then I turned thirteen – the time of boys and dating and teenage angst.  If I liked a boy I more or less wanted him to know right away.  And then if he liked me I wanted to get any and all initial discussions over and done with so we could settle in to the ‘going out’ part.  I never liked the pre-dating game. Additionally, if an event loomed on the horizon – like my sixteenth birthday and the day I planned to get my driver’s license – I could hardly stand it.  The day simply could not come fast enough.

I’ve remained rather impatient into my adult years. I don’t like to wait to hear the results of tests; if I need to talk with someone I’d prefer to do it now; and if there’s a concern or an issue to resolve then let’s not waste any time but get the job done. And if someone is evaluating my work? Well, all bets are off.  That’s when I really begin to lose all fortitude and fall into a mess of jittery intolerance.

Yep – and that’s my current world – the one of a beginning and struggling author.   The writing, the re-writing, the editing, and the days of pulling the hair out of my head are endless. And that doesn’t even include the submission process!  Query an agent – and hurry up and wait.  Will they respond favorably, or worse – will they respond at all? It’s quite the conundrum, especially for someone like me who very much prefers to hear the feedback and get the results immediately – even if they might be negative.  I want to get an answer and move on. If they like my work I’m obviously exalted. If not, then I want to pick up the pieces to my battered ego, much less to the manuscript that now contains my heart and soul, and move on to the next potential agent. But, patience is the name of the game.

So I wait.  But I do not wait idly.  I continue to work, I continue to submit, I continue to strive to reach that final goal of a book sitting on the shelf of your local book store. And I think that’s what it comes down to in the end for all of us.  Yes, patience sucks.  There is no doubt about it.  But, we can’t get around it.  We can’t force people to respond or for events to happen any more quickly than they will.  We get impatient to meet the partner of our dreams, anxious for the birth of our first child, and restless because we need that job but won’t hear until the next week.  But patience isn’t about doing nothing. Be productive while you wait. It helps the time go by at least a bit faster, might help you achieve your goal, and usually makes the waiting not quite so painful.

As for me? I’ll make every effort to keep this blog in mind as I continue to wait. I’m not sure I’m ever going to like the word – patience – but I will push through. And I suppose it’s true – sometimes we simply just have to hurry up and wait. After all, patience is a virtue.