Is there anyone in your life that you’ve battled with repeatedly, time and time again, only to eventually become friends? Being a lover of hoops, I think of Magic and Bird. They battled head-to-head for years, in heated competition. Then one day they famously became pretty close friends.
My personal battle is with Time. So far, the two of us are not friendly.
I learned a lesson as a 7-year-old child, one of my few persistent memories from back then. It was a quiet evening after dinner, and my mother had agreed that I could listen to one side of the record “Peter and the Wolf” before bed, something I really liked to do. I was happy and excited. But after she left the room my mind wandered, and apparently, Time passed. Suddenly, to my surprise, she was back in the room. And before I realized what had happened, mom told me it was time for bed. No complaining. The opportunity was gone, squandered. And in that moment, Time became my adversary. I’ve rarely been late for anything since, nor unprepared in the face of a deadline. I’m almost always completely aware of what time it is, wherever I am. Refusing to be vanquished again.
Throughout my youth I encountered plenty of other would-be adversaries. I had direct competitors in academics and athletics and faced them effectively. I also encountered teachers that seemed unfair and bullies that tried to harass and intimidate. I won’t say that every interaction concluded perfectly, but none of these “adversaries” got too far under my skin. I frequently came up with solid responses, and things tended to work out. Later, as an adult in business, I gained a reputation for being unflappable. Able to deal effectively with many types of antagonistic people and confronting situations. I would regularly think things through and figure something out.
But my relationship with Time has never been so manageable. I’ve been locked in a recurring battle.
“Be Quick, Don’t Hurry.” That’s guidance from the late great John Wooden. Guidance that was repeated often by the beloved, recently deceased, Bill Walton, a man who lived a wonderful, full life. I’ve tried to embrace their guidance over the years, and think I’ve done well enough in a limited way. The “don’t hurry” part of Wooden’s message involves being prepared, and then acting decisively. Preparing and acting is in my wheelhouse. I can do that. I do that.
But can I be neither quick nor hurried? If I’d met Bill, I bet he would have told me all about it. He’d have told me to slow down, smell the roses, the asphalt, anything and everything around me. He would have recognized my propensity to always be “quick”, trying to accomplish more in less time. Quick to start or finish things, quick to move from one topic to the next. Determined to get things done, while there is still time in the day.
As you might recall, I do pause in very small doses, as with my quasi-meditation practice. But that’s truly just a break in the action, not a wholly different way of being. I still behave like other Type A’s that you might have met, constantly trying to name that tune in 3 notes rather than 7, to pack a few more things into any given day. To accomplish more, better, faster, bigger. Regardless of my pursuit, photography or anything else, that’s been me.
Why do I feel the need to continuously “accomplish”? Maybe it’s all part of the battle. We hear the phrases regularly. Time is short. Time Waits for No One. We’re out of time, there’s not enough time, the clock is ticking. Sorry, the clock is not merely ticking, the clock is actually running. And it’s Running Out. Then there’s this lovely phrase: Father Time is undefeated.
Can you win a battle with Time? Can doing “more” be any useful kind of response? Getting things done absolutely feels good to me in the short term. It’s short-term though. I sometimes panic just a little bit for not accomplishing enough in a given day or week, even now. Even though I’ve tried to adopt the view that it’s all about the process and not the results, I still feel pressure when I’m not moving forward.
I think it’s about scarcity. In most areas of life, I see things as abundant. If I need something, or really want to do something or go somewhere, I’ll figure out how to do it. I’ve always been able to figure such things out. But I relate to Time as a uniquely scarce thing. Once gone, it’s gone. I’m trying to “beat” it with a steady string of accomplishments. But it doesn’t really work; Time marches on; it doesn’t care.
In the second Star Trek movie, Wrath of Kahn, there’s a great line by William Shatner that I like to remember. He said, “I don’t believe in a no-win situation.” William Shatner’s character prevailed by looking at things differently and changing the rules.
Could that work for me, here? Look differently, play by different rules?
Recently a friend described their relationship with Time, and it’s nothing like mine. They told me that thinking of Time as an adversary, or a scarce resource, is not the only option. They view Time as a unique entity, neither scarce nor abundant. Time is a welcoming friend, they said, eagerly beckoning us. They told me that we are what makes Time interesting, and that without each of us, Time would be empty. Time is there for us to embrace, enjoy, and imprint. And it can be our joy and privilege to do so.
Sounds great. But I’m struggling to fully grok it.
I’ve spent so long living with my original paradigm.
In dabbling with quietude I’ve sometimes just appreciated the experience for a few minutes. It’s felt worthwhile to be more present to the world and myself. It has. But sitting quietly has primarily been a technique to accomplish more things each week or month, because clearing out thoughts helps me be more efficient in the rest of the day and allows me to think bigger thoughts or think more creatively, and get out of ruts. That was my original motivation for the practice, and it works. Would anyone who knows me be surprised that I’ve slowed down in order to accomplish more? They wouldn’t.
And maybe I’m still missing the point. My friend’s idea is seemingly on a completely different plane. Is it possible, in some sort of existential way, to think of Time as reaching its arms out to each of us, asking us to embrace and imprint it? Can I personally think about it that way? The concept remains challenging for me to adopt, so far. But I also know that thinking about Time as a scarce resource has not been a helpful position to take.
Could I befriend Time? That would be amazing. I don’t know.
Until next time,
Limited Edition Prints for Sale
Another channel of my photography. Oof. But as promised, I’ve got this new set of Limited Edition prints available for purchase. Any unsold African wildlife images from last fall, as promised, have been retired from circulation.
Each edition consists of ten Numbered Prints and two Artists Prints, 16x24” silver halide, with certificate of authentication. As before, these are limited both by number and duration of the offer. If you’d like one or more for that special person, don’t hesitate. You wouldn't want to become he who is lost!
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i can't think at anything else but the great gandalf: "all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us".
Time is the most mercurial of all the universe offers.
We cannot control it, but it has the most control of all.
Nothing can escape it, change it, warp t, or tame it.
But it is time that gives us the opportunity to experience it.
And, as Gandalf said, choose what to do with it.