Time After Time

 

Each instant of our being alive is precious to us, but we spend them lavishly. Particularly so, when we are young, and our life stretches out before us, seemingly without end. We pay more attention when we are older, doling out our time with a greater sense of establishing priorities for its expenditure. I have reached an age when I am downright parsimonious. I finger each moment carefully, asking myself if I have squeezed out every bit of juice from the time slipping away from me with such speed. I may look as if I am sitting here doing nothing, but take my word for it, I am massaging each instant as I breathe in and out.

I get a sense of how much time has already passed, multiplying my moments by all the human creatures that are alive around me now. And all the creatures who have gone out before, whose husks have been swept out with the trash. Each of our moments are exquisite to us, precious jewels, but placed on a scale which encompasses our vast universe they amount to little more than wisps in the wind, if even that. Looking back, we see time after time after time.

It seems incredible to me that we are the only sentient creatures in this limitless space. Could it be that we are the only experiment in the lab that has been established for the amusement of the Prime Mover? Are we the first time this has happened? Is our space just a grain of sand in some titan’s pocket? Even so, can we even imagine the meticulous multi-tasking going on to take care of all this while still having the time to infuse each and every one of us with that life spark that keeps us scurrying about? Do you think the system operates on automatic? I find that hard to believe, given the personal attention I have received.

I can understand how jealous we can be about taking personal credit for our individual perfection. We are self-made, aren’t we? We did it all by ourselves, the crowning achievement fashioned from the raw clay we were when we started out. But within the larger picture, where did the perfection come from within a reductionist evolutionary plan? It just won’t wash. We find it hard to appreciate a timescale beyond our comprehension, as we inhabit our few instants hardly registering in a cosmic calendar.

 

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