Days Gone By
"Time is like a handful of sand- the tighter you grasp it, the faster it runs through your fingers."
Days. Hours. Minutes. Seconds.
Your life moves along and the day turns to night quicker than a snap of the fingers. You realize you wish you would've done as much as you first intended to when you woke up that morning, but somehow time escaped you. The day has come to a close and it is time to pack up your thoughts and head to bed. It's amazing, really. Time is something we perceive, something that passes us by, and it's not something we can grasp in our hands and manipulate to our advantage, even though we really, really would like it to be. What are your initial thoughts when the day comes to end? Was it a good day? Did you have fun, did you enjoy this day as much as the previous one? One would hope so. People have their good and bad days, it's true, but we have it in us to decide whether or not these bad days were really "bad" days as we say. We can turn the tide and make each day to be the best it can be. Put aside for a minute the struggles that keep you from smiling through the day. It's always good to take a breather and just laugh at life. It's healthy; both mentally and physically you will see better results if you do this. Take an hour just for yourself, do something you've been wanting to do for a while but never really had the time for.
We might not be able to manipulate time, but we can, in fact, manipulate the actions that take place during a certain time. Shift this moment to your advantage, make the day be the best it can be, the best it can offer. If you have to just sit there on your couch and stare at the ceiling...it's fine! Who hasn't done that before? It can help you so much if you are stressed or have a deadline to meet. Just be sure not to abuse it, because then you will end up missing that deadline.
Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days.
Time flies, doesn't it? When you least expect it you take a look at your watch and you realize the day is coming to a close. Some people say that time slows down when they are not enjoying the activity they're participating on. Then they say that time flies when one is having fun. Does it really work that way, or do we just perceive it that way? We get caught up so much in the things we do that we stop paying attention to the clock on the wall. We live life like nothing else matters, nothing but the moment and the people we share it with.
Think about how much you've read on this page. If you made it to here, congratulations, now look at your watch...or the clock on your cell phone, whichever it is. Did you expect it to come this far? Neither did I. Once you start on something (say, writing) and you focus on it, you just keep on doing it. Unless there is something that really distracts you from your work or activity, time keeps on ticking. If you are stopped suddenly by something you become aware of time. And so in a sense, time stops. Look at your watch. Again. It's the moment.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
Time is relevant to the observer.
***The Truth Is Complicated***
Alone by Edgar Allan Poe
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were--I have not seen
As others saw--I could not bring
My passions from a common spring--
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow--I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone--
And all I lov'd--I lov'd alone--
Then--in my childhood--in the dawn
Of a most stormy life--was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still--
From the torrent, or the fountain--
From the red cliff of the mountain--
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold--
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by--
From the thunder, and the storm--
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view--
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were--I have not seen
As others saw--I could not bring
My passions from a common spring--
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow--I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone--
And all I lov'd--I lov'd alone--
Then--in my childhood--in the dawn
Of a most stormy life--was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still--
From the torrent, or the fountain--
From the red cliff of the mountain--
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold--
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by--
From the thunder, and the storm--
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view--