If I Could Save Time In A Bottle....

I used to keep a journal years ago and I originally wrote this entry in there. Then I republished it recently and when I decided to begin a blog here for the new year I thought it fitting that my first post should be about time. Time is something that's been in the forefront of my mind lately. So here it is:


"My, how time flies.

When I was young I had a romantic ideal of life, relationships, and how the world works....I had all sorts of illusions about things. As Valmont in 'Dangerous Liaisons' (my favorite movie) says, "I've lost them on my travels." While at times I mourn the loss, wishing to be able to go back and feel that naive again, for the most part I am happy that I can see things like they are and not like a fantasy. I miss being 18, that time when you don't even notice you have a body because it doesn't creak and let you know it's there. But if someone were to come up and offer me the ability to go back, sacrificing my knowledge of course, I'd have to decline. I value my experiences, good and bad alike. They make me who I am. I like myself. I truly do.

I remember being a teenager, and my dad would tell me that time would go faster as I got older. I couldn't wrap my head around it, because when you're a teenager, time never seems to do anything but crawl. You keep looking into the future, waiting for that thing you're going to accomplish, or that person you're going to have, or that fortune you're going to make. When you're waiting for time to catch up to your dreams, when you're 16 and you know that you have to be 21 to actually do anything in this world, time is your enemy. Time has what you want and the most frustrating thing in the world is to know you have to wait for him to pry his bloody claws loose of what's rightfully yours to use.

Then you're in your 20's and time is your friend -- you see possibilities and you don't feel useless, you feel free! Free of your parents, your old life, your same-old, same-old. You can be the real you instead of what you pretended to be to get everyone to leave you alone, and you don't have to wait for anyone because you can finally do it all yourself.

But when you're 39 and you start finding yourself looking back, time once again becomes your enemy. But this time, instead of trying to get him to loosen his claws, you start wanting him to tighten up a bit. He's loosened the claws so much that time is like sand through his fingers -- slipping away, so damned quickly that you can actually see the days go by. You see a different face in the mirror. You see yourself doing the same thing, over and over, the same work schedule, the same household duties, the same family you used to have but this one was one you began yourself, instead of merely being one of its additions. So much more of what you do means so much more to the ones that depend on you, and it weighs you down. You feel that the hours and days you see going by are being stolen from you -- how dare they go so fast when you have so much you need to do?

You start wondering how much of that slippery time can be dribbled towards yourself, how can you compartmentalize time into slices for everyone else when what time you have is meant for you? -- and yes, you start to feel greedy with it. It is fear, stark, plain, and simple. Fear that there's a limit to the sand pouring through the fingers of Time, and you can't get it to pause for a second while you get your bearings. You know so much more about who you are but then you begin to see you don't have time to fit it all in. You want to stamp your foot and you wish with all your heart that time would once again crawl as slowly as it did when you were a teen.

But who knows? -- maybe when I'm 80 and I can really, really look back I'll laugh at myself for worrying about it at all. After all, if I've learned anything, I've learned that once something begins it doesn't just end. It keeps going, faster and faster, and you don't have the option to stop it. You can either jump on and enjoy the ride or spend your time bitching at the conductor from the sidelines.

Me, I grab all that sand that I can grab, because my life is the one thing that I own that I've paid cash for. I willingly give what I can, but I also take what I must have. I'm no good to anyone or anything -- least of all me -- if I don't..... "


((SONG: "Time In A Bottle" by Jim Croce, lyrics here: http://www.ondragonswing.com/ninjababe/lyrics/timebottl.htm))