Jennifer Neeper Moore, a member of Future Project, submitted the question for this week. It's a question about Time, that illusive dimension of human existence that marks our progress and regress throughout our lives. Time marks our birth and our death and every moment of existence in between. Some of us cherish a hope that we exist beyond Time, that we become one with a Supreme Being or Oversoul when we shed these earthly skins. Those who believe in the development of the soul think that as we shed one human skin we take on another so we may learn and grow and be purified through the centuries. Others believe that this all-too-short life provides the basis for Jehovah or God or Allah to send us to hell, purgatory, or heaven when we die.
But the question Jennifer poses has to do with Time in the Now of our lives.
When we were children it seemed like life took a long time coming. Those of us who were fortunate enough to experience the differences between Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter found each of these seasons distinctly different. One memorable season in our childhoods sets in stone the way we think for the rest of our lives about that particular season.
Here's how it worked for me. Fall was a returning. I grew up going back to school in the Fall, and I had the same goal every time. In my heart I wanted to start anew. This year I will pay attention. This year I will make better grades. This year I will win the heart of that girl I love.
Winter was a time of celebration. Because I was raised as a Christian the true meaning of Winter came in the guise of Christmas. Christmas was associated with snow and presents and miracles. Christmas was the Time when the most hardened Scrooge would find his heart melted like butter with love. Yes, because I am an American I celebrated Thanksgiving before Christmas. But Thanksgiving was just a prelude to Christmas, and the winter following Christmas was a beautiful denouement.
Then came Spring. The world came back to life in the Spring. Everything burst into bloom, especially love. In my childhood memories, I always fell in love in the Spring. It was a time of rebirth, and on the Christian calendar it was marked with Easter, which signified the rebirth of Christ after he was crucified. Jesus of the Gospels conquered Time and Death by coming back to life. That's what Spring meant to me.
Summer meant vacation. There was no school during the Summer, and there was time for every mischief possible. For me, though, Summer meant Time in the woods. i grew up in a house that faced a great wood, and I spent much of my childhood summers in that wood exploring every nook and cranny. I gloried in finding ant hills and spider webs and snake holes. I climbed every tree worth climbing. I swung from one side of a deep gully to the other on great great vines. Summer was adventure.
So we have these seasons stamped on our minds as children. We remember a few things vividly, and we hold onto those memories for the rest of our lives. But we find that our Timeless memories barely have a chance to surface as we grow older. One season overlaps another, and soon every season becomes such a blur that we hardly have Time to take a breath. We don't forget those initial experiences that continue to live in us and define who we are and what we might become, but we barely have Time to remember them because as we grow older Time speeds up for many of us. One year passes into another so fast that we can't even remember what the year before meant.
This question proposed by Jennifer has even more meaning to me because this past decade has passed in a blur for me. I don't know what the music was about. I don't know what the literature was about. I don't even remember any differentiation from one year to the next. Nothing stands out except two jets flying into the World Trade Center in New York. An entire decade of my life is nothing more than those two planes. Cancer killed far more people every single year of the first decade of the new millennium than that one tragedy did, but I haven't spent the last 10 years thinking about cancer. I've spent them thinking about terror.
I don't want to spend the next 10 years of my life thinking about remote terror threats. I want to spend them thinking about how all of us can work together to make a better world. But I must admit that Time now flies by like a kite that has broken free of its string. I am carried by whatever strong wind happens to be blowing, and I'm in danger of being swept away completely. I mustn't let that happen. I must find a way to slow down Time again so I can make every day count.
But what about you? You have other experiences that have shaped your life. How has your perception of Time changed as you've gotten older?
But the question Jennifer poses has to do with Time in the Now of our lives.
When we were children it seemed like life took a long time coming. Those of us who were fortunate enough to experience the differences between Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter found each of these seasons distinctly different. One memorable season in our childhoods sets in stone the way we think for the rest of our lives about that particular season.
Here's how it worked for me. Fall was a returning. I grew up going back to school in the Fall, and I had the same goal every time. In my heart I wanted to start anew. This year I will pay attention. This year I will make better grades. This year I will win the heart of that girl I love.
Winter was a time of celebration. Because I was raised as a Christian the true meaning of Winter came in the guise of Christmas. Christmas was associated with snow and presents and miracles. Christmas was the Time when the most hardened Scrooge would find his heart melted like butter with love. Yes, because I am an American I celebrated Thanksgiving before Christmas. But Thanksgiving was just a prelude to Christmas, and the winter following Christmas was a beautiful denouement.
Then came Spring. The world came back to life in the Spring. Everything burst into bloom, especially love. In my childhood memories, I always fell in love in the Spring. It was a time of rebirth, and on the Christian calendar it was marked with Easter, which signified the rebirth of Christ after he was crucified. Jesus of the Gospels conquered Time and Death by coming back to life. That's what Spring meant to me.
Summer meant vacation. There was no school during the Summer, and there was time for every mischief possible. For me, though, Summer meant Time in the woods. i grew up in a house that faced a great wood, and I spent much of my childhood summers in that wood exploring every nook and cranny. I gloried in finding ant hills and spider webs and snake holes. I climbed every tree worth climbing. I swung from one side of a deep gully to the other on great great vines. Summer was adventure.
So we have these seasons stamped on our minds as children. We remember a few things vividly, and we hold onto those memories for the rest of our lives. But we find that our Timeless memories barely have a chance to surface as we grow older. One season overlaps another, and soon every season becomes such a blur that we hardly have Time to take a breath. We don't forget those initial experiences that continue to live in us and define who we are and what we might become, but we barely have Time to remember them because as we grow older Time speeds up for many of us. One year passes into another so fast that we can't even remember what the year before meant.
This question proposed by Jennifer has even more meaning to me because this past decade has passed in a blur for me. I don't know what the music was about. I don't know what the literature was about. I don't even remember any differentiation from one year to the next. Nothing stands out except two jets flying into the World Trade Center in New York. An entire decade of my life is nothing more than those two planes. Cancer killed far more people every single year of the first decade of the new millennium than that one tragedy did, but I haven't spent the last 10 years thinking about cancer. I've spent them thinking about terror.
I don't want to spend the next 10 years of my life thinking about remote terror threats. I want to spend them thinking about how all of us can work together to make a better world. But I must admit that Time now flies by like a kite that has broken free of its string. I am carried by whatever strong wind happens to be blowing, and I'm in danger of being swept away completely. I mustn't let that happen. I must find a way to slow down Time again so I can make every day count.
But what about you? You have other experiences that have shaped your life. How has your perception of Time changed as you've gotten older?
