Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over
Thought I’d something more to say
I like to be here
When I can
When I come home
Cold and tired
It’s good to warm my bones
Beside the fire
Across the field
Tolling on the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spell
Time is versatile. It can do many things. It can fly. It can drone on and on when things are boring. Time stands still in moments of clarity, frozen in time. We wish for it. We lose track of it. We wish it away. Science fiction authors have thought about machines to move forward and back in time. It’s one of the underlying aspects of our lives. We look through the cosmos, seeing light from the stars traveling thousands, millions, and even billions of light years in time. It can be a constant to keep the trains and airplanes moving. Einstein’s Theory of Relativity states that time is relative depending on where you are and how fast you’re going, but that’s another story.
One of the parts that really make me think is when I listen to Pink Floyd’s “Time”. Taken from their renowned and timeless Dark Side of the Moon album from 1973. Again, there’s that time thing. Pink Floyd can be deep and immersive. While many popular songs in any genre are not deep, philosophical musings and commentaries, Pink Floyd makes you think. “Time” is one of my favorites. While not my absolute favorite song of theirs, the lyrics are deeply meaningful and relatable.
As I get older, I see many parallels with the lyrics. I’ve finished school back in the mid-1990s and have been working, regulated by time all these years, Monday through Friday, 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM. “And then one day you find ten years have got behind you,” causes me to think. In many instances, I’m the same person I was when I was in my teens. I still recall those moments in time when I was playing basketball. Seeing my mom and dad in the stands at a baseball game. Worrying about final exams. A collection of frozen moments in time, amid the blurring of time.
I’m now 47 years old as I write this. It’s a feeling of blessing on one hand. I survived this long and am relatively healthy. I’ve known others who died early. I’m a lover of history, and read many books and magazines about World War II, and always lament the lost generation, so many young men who never had a chance to enjoy the time of life. On the other hand, I shake my head, wondering where the time went. “Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time,” is something we all relate to. My birthday was a few days ago, I’m afraid that if I blink, Christmas will be on us again. If I blink yet again, I’m afraid that next summer will be starting. “Hanging on in quiet desperation,” is an apt description when time’s lost.
It’s not just about how much you can cram into your life. It’s not about your job title, bank account, or status in general. The shortness of time affects everyone. Time does not discriminate to certain races or social classes. It’s all about taking the time to reflect and be happy. Do things that are fulfilling for you. If that includes jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, jump away. If that means epic road trips, drive on. If you love down time, sit back and mellow out. Spend time with the family. Spend time doing a hobby. Stop to smell the roses, literally. Capture the moments for you. My grandparents weren’t globetrotters, but if I could ask them, I bet they would tell me how fulfilled they were.
Stop racing, things will happen when they happen. Stop to catch your breath, and while doing so, smell the roses a bit. “Comfortably Numb” just started, so I’ll wrap this up and soak it up for a few minutes.