The Blog

Time is such a novel concept, one of those things that we don’t really truly understand until we grow older. Maybe I’ve just let time make me jaded, but maybe it’s all a part of the process of growing older and understanding the little intricacies of life a bit more.

As children we start to believe the moment we’re living in will last forever, we start to desire to grow older faster, often times in the process we forget to live in the moment; to enjoy the moments we have — the moments we have to be a kid, the moments to have to still have our parents by our side, the moments we have to enjoy the warm summer air, the moments we have to enjoy that first kiss, that first crush. We seem to forget the little things that made life worthwhile, and eventually we do grow older, we get stuck in a routine — we begin to have responsibilities. Days turn into night and we seem to forget what it was like to be a kid, to be able to enjoy the simple and little things, such as a mid-afternoon nap, your favorite scoop of ice cream, or that childhood tv show that was the only reason you had finished your homework early.

It seems we no longer let spontaneity and our love and desires control what we do, rather our wants and needs take over. As a result we seemingly forget the little pleasures of life. Maybe not all of us experience this, maybe some to greater degrees than others, and maybe for some this has become a way of life. The real question is why?  Before continuing I want to bring up a passage by Kahlil Gibran, he wrote the following on time:

You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life’s timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream.
And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not time even as love is, undivided and spaceless?

But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.

We read through this and of course each of us are welcome to our own interpretation but I wanted to focus on the first five lines.

(This article is not complete.)