Feeling Time

I woke up rather dismayed a few days ago. It was still super-early and dark.

You know how things can feel especially distressing before the sun comes up?

I don’t dream often; I suppose I should say that I don’t remember my dreams often. But I do entertain philosophical thoughts in those early hours, most of which leave me with gratitude but some of which make me sad.

This particular day, I experienced the latter.

I’m well aware that my perception of time continues to accelerate as I get older. The summer of 1980, to my mind, lasted almost as long as the 2020s have so far.

How is it possible that COVID’s start was 6.5 years ago? I know it wasn’t yesterday, but 6.5 years is a relatively long time.

As I look forward, I’m well aware of how much older I’ll feel in 20 years than I do today. Twenty years would’ve been an eternity in 1980—and it was. I experienced so much between 1980 and 2000.

But, given how quickly the last 6.5 years have gone by, I now appreciate how quickly that next 20 will feel because it’s only 3x the 6.5 years. I know it’s a nerdy way to think about it, but that’s what I was contemplating a few mornings ago: I’ll be 20 years older before I know it.

That motivated me to ask myself what it is that allows me to experience time more fully. I wasn’t wondering how to make the most of my time because that’s a well-understood question; I was wondering how to feel time the most.

I don’t know the complete answer yet, but I do know that a few things have contributed to my experiencing time more fully—or at least remembering it as lasting longer.

Experiencing new things instead of the same thing repeatedly: new locations, new foods, new people, new ideas, new workouts, new hobbies…

Scheduling my time intentionally instead of letting life schedule it for me: waking up before I have to, allocating time and space to think and write, and making time for friendships despite busy schedules.

Finally, forcing myself to stop looking toward the next personal or professional milestone and reminding myself to appreciate “now.” I used the words “forcing myself” for a reason: because I tend to be the type of person who thinks, “Things will be better as soon as I achieve X,” with X being the next item on a never-ending list of aspirations.

As I’ve continued to think about it, I wonder if all of these things have something deeper in common. Perhaps it’s less about novelty and more about paying attention. Children seem to experience time so slowly because they’re paying attention to everything. As adults, so much of life becomes routine that weeks, months, and even years begin to blur together. Maybe the moments that seem to last the longest are simply the ones to which we gave our fullest attention.

I’m still contemplating this, and I share it with you in case it inspires you to figure it out for yourself, or to share something I hadn’t yet considered.

May you feel your time deeply, my friends, no matter what part of the world you’re in.