Time Heals (and Erodes)

Most of us are familiar with the axiom time heals – but I’d like to add that time erodes as well. Like most things in this universe, there are 2 poles to time, a constructive one and a deconstructive opposite. Passage of time gives us the capacity to heal our wounds, physical and psychological. Our body stitches itself according to its DNA instructions, while our mind creates new neural connections by processing and learning from challenges that initially bruised it.

But what of time erosion? Every so often, as our lives flow, we get a certain primal sensation to pay attention. A call to life-action, so to speak: intuitive feelings, wholesome desires, sudden clarities – things that freely upwell from within. During these brief moments, we feel we are one with the universe. We truly understand without needing to put thoughts into words. These transformative opportunities tend to be loud at first, but their call quickly silences if they are not acted upon. Their silence keeps us static and routine-driven, limiting the scope of our life and its possibilities. And when attachment to routine or familiar defines our normal, we stop exploring and start obsessing, walking the same exact steps day in and day out.

If you feel compelled to do something, do it now. Don’t put it off until some imaginary future date or circumstance. Future does not exist, no matter how certain it may seem in our minds. The more we put things off, the more time we waste – the only resource in this universe that is truly non-renewable. Respecting yourself (and your potential) starts with respecting your time.

Death of a Sparrow

I came across a circle of sparrows on a sidewalk, all directing their attention, and concern, toward the centre. Laying in it was a dying sparrow. She was on her back, spasming, wings flapping uncontrollably – likely a window or car strike. Within a few moments, all movement ceased, and her avian companions flew off.

I picked up and cupped the motionless sparrow in my palms, hoping to detect or encourage any signs of life. There were none, only a limp, flatlined body. I placed her at the base of a nearby tree, stroked her head, and let the moment sink. My first reaction was one of sorrow. Another victim of endless terraforming. But looking around at her companions, who resumed flying, playing, chirping, courting, soaring freely through the air, my feelings brightened. This sweet bird may have died, but she also lived, and, if her companions are any indication, lived to her fullest.

Isn’t that what life should be about? Letting go, and taking the risk of living freely? Soaring to heights of our full potential, rather than mucking along, ensnared on habit, insecurity, conformation, and our endless obsession of being productive (and hence worthy according to some standard du jour)? Life is short, may be a cliche, but it is rooted in our intuition – something we should act on rather than talk about. Instead, we often act as if our lives are permanent: delaying, procrastinating, sticking to the familiar, etc. What the death of this beautiful sparrow reminded me is that our time is finite, and infinitely more precious than anything else we give value to in life. We need to respect it, and use it to broaden our reality, our scope of life, our taste of the unknown. The more we know, the more we are.

Death often strikes suddenly, and with little to no time to prepare. Sometimes, I think of my hypothetical posthumous self reflecting back on life. Was it lived well, freely, and fully? What did I want to do, but didn’t make the time to do it? I find asking these questions, even without providing any answers, adds drive and curiosity to life.

Present Tension

Living in the present starts with the fundamental belief that you can change now. Now exists, the future does not, the past has passed. The first is real, the other two are either fantasy or history. The first anchors you to life, the other two remove you from it.

Since our language describes our relationship to the world, we can start embracing the present there. Instead of having three strictly defined temporal tenses, let’s reduce them to two: Present Expressed and Present Expressing. Both are real-time, both describe life as it naturally flows, but neither pins you to a point in history or anticipation of future events. Imagine that both tenses describe a natural evolution of the universe, in which you participate in your own authentic, natural manner. If you need labels, you can call it grace, destiny, fate or whatever else points you toward that process. As the universe unfolds, so does time – time measured not through minutes or seconds, but through changes in and around us. Those changes that have taken place are part of Present Expressed, a tense describing the form and course that the universe has naturally taken. The Present Expressing represents the continual evolution of the universe and our participation in it. We are all variables within this tense, and we all matter, so long as we embrace our authenticity. Through or without it, we steer the evolution of the universe to some infinitesimal degree.

The right behaviour is authentic behavior, and this behaviour expresses itself through our continual decisions. Don’t ask yourself if this is the right thing to do – ask yourself if this is the authentic thing to do. Are you acting from within or out of fear or imposed duty? The form that our lives, and by extension the universe (sum total of every life and everything), assume after an authentically expressed decision, will be natural and right, because it comes from a natural place. Think of yourself as an element, like oxygen or helium. Each element behaves in its own, unique way because of its nature, and yet together they hold the universe together and are part of its continual evolution.