TIME - HERE AND NOW

 

Time is relative. Isn’t everything? It’s all a matter of perspective and perception. Newton said, “Time is absolute, flowing uniformly for all observers, and that it was somehow related to gravity and velocity. Hello, Einstein and Newton. I do not understand the theory of relativity or Newton’s concept of absolute time. I do know that we experience time as slower when we are enduring or faster when we are enjoying. And, don’t we all feel our time on this earth is brief (if not nasty and brutish, as philosopher Thomas Hobbes suggests). I have also heard time defined more simply as that which keeps everything from happening at once. I think that was noted by John Lennon. Imagine that!

“Time is a but a stream I go a-fishing in.” Hello, Thoreau, whose thoughts are far easier to grasp than are Einstein’s, Newton’s, or John Lennon’s for that matter. Thoreau’s statement in Walden: or a Life in Woods is worth further consideration, as is his other observation that, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desparation." Thoreau's description of time as a stream to go fishing in suggests that time just "IS," and we can leisurely cast in sand out of it eternal waters, pulling out what we will without any awareness of time itself. 

In Walden, he also reminds us of the “way of the world,” with its desperations, urgencies, distractions and pre-occupations. How much more so is it, especially now, with the nation/world in seeming chaos. And we often rushing around to “get is all done”—maybe stressed, anxious and often neglectful of the more important demands and pleasures of the mind, heart, soul, of each other, and the gifts of nature.

What would Thoreau think of where and how we live now—often by the calendar and clock for our day, week, month and year, looking ahead to whatever work we must complete, to an upcoming birthday, holiday, a social event, getting children off to school, and ourselves to our jobs, fighting traffic or catching a flight, preparing a report, or at home preparing a meal, completing chores, paying bills; making phone calls; keeping appointments. We must admit, too, to our addiction at times to our devices, and to wasting “time” on social media, email, video games, sitting in front of the TV,  clicking or downloading on apps for everything imaginable. How about FaceTiming and Zooming?  

Yep! We have once again been cast out of The Garden, having taken a huge bite of an Apple of another kind.

There is no end in sight—unless we stop to dip into “‘the stream’’, forgetting that time exists at all. Thoreau's thoughts are still relevant today, except that the desparation is "quiet" desperation. It's loud and clear. The pace of life has escalated exponentially. He saw where we were headed at the speed of light. And yet, how could he have imagined that we would be headed back to the future, going chronologically forward in time, but stuck in unaddressed grievances from the Civil War, censorship, ongoing racial, gender, and human rights concerns? Don’t get me started!

While we do live in the present, our thoughts are often focused on the past or future. Remaining in the moment is difficult, which becomes obvious if we attempt to meditate or clear our minds of brain chatter. Being in the present seems more possible when we are in love (with a person or a project). Then no one or nothing else exists. And we are more present when we are with children, who compel us (if we are attentive and follow their lead) to live and love each moment, mostly in play and imagination where time stands still. To quote another voice: “For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity.” (C. S. Lewis)

I became well aware of the present visiting our four-year old grandson. I told him I would be leaving “tomorrow” and that I would be sad. Without skipping a beat, he said, “It’s not tomorrow now.” The simple truth of his words penetrated to the core of my being, when I realized how I had rather selfishly imposed the future on him, when he lives only in the present, the “now,” as children and lovers do. He challenged (and shamed me) me to be truly with him—no worry about “tomorrow," only the joy of our being together today—in the here and now.

When become painfully aware of how un-present I am, or when my mind drifts to the absurdity that our little blue planet is spinning madly through the dark, cold expanses of infinite space, I have to stop, put up an imaginary "gone fishing" sign and sit under a tree in a meadow, or under the starry sky to calm my racing heart and mind, to be silent and still enough to: feel the warmth of the sun, the coolness of a breeze, listen to the sound of the sea or the crickets at summer’s end— “so thin a splinter of singing.” (Carl Sandburg)

That is: to live in timelessness, before I again enter the madly spinning world where, actually, everything is happening at once!

Here and Now

Now when there is no truth

Here where everything and nothing is real

when and where all paths lead 

 everywhere and nowhere

Refuse to stand at either pole

or be forever lost in between

One thing is clear

You are a fixed star

All things exist in relation to you

orbit in your sphere

Are held in balance by you—

Here and now