I’m wondering about…time.
How much, for example, of the past is really characterized or is actually as described to us? There’s often such a filter that has been applied to nearly any portrayal of the past. Not to say that it is all inaccurate, but often it is used to serve other purposes. We must be aware of that.
And, then, there’s the future — how much of it will actually unfold in the way we anticipate, especially when it often seems to be more about fear and control than it about wonder and possibility?
Our sense of time is so influenced by these two dimensions of time — past and future as we imagine them to be. But what seems conspicuous, as well, is how much these two dimensions dominate our present experience; our availability to the present and to the dynamics that are happening now.
Obviously, there is a continuum of some kind involved. We have had prior present moments and those do collectively inform us. The trailing effect of these collective experiences creates a lens through which we try to anticipate the future. This seems both pretty observable and normal — almost like we can’t avoid it (and maybe we shouldn’t). But, what seems strikingly left out, too much of the time, is the impact that our perception of those dimensions has on what is happening right now and how we both think about and engage with it.
As we transition again during this Spring time of year, it’s hard not to notice there is something old and something new that is happening simultaneously. The cycles of life inform our perceptions about what our experience with these time-based sensitivities are like. It seems conspicuous that the vibrancy of the colors of Springs are designed, among other things, to get our attention, particularly to the newness of the current moment. Even though Spring happens every year, there is something about each Spring that renews a part of our imagination for the nature of our existence. Each season, in fact, does this in its own unique way. And, so, I am really wondering if part of the purpose of these even predictable changes is to help us more fully engage with the present-ness of each season and, thereby, each moment.
It’s not really like we should forget the past by pretending that it didn’t exist. It was, and is, a part of our experience. Similarly, it shouldn’t be that just because the future isn’t “here", we should pretend that there is nothing that we can do to affect it. The present is critical to both our understanding of the past and to our anticipation and opportunity to experience the future. What this really means is that the current moment is quite significant to this continuum that we describe with these notions of time.
Perhaps it is because of our past that the present moment is so full of opportunity to impact the future. We are, in fact, moving through something. Time is one way to comprehend some of what that is. And, while time can help us with our need to use some kind of calibration to understand the nature of this existence, it can also almost unilaterally help us miss it altogether. Especially, if we can’t see how any given moment is potentially overshadowed by prior moments, our experience of them and the agency with which we do or don’t operate in the future.
In the rational West, for example, we have ended up attaching so many things to this calibration we maintain regarding time. One simple example would be productivity. We often measure the value of our experience with time — past, present, and future moments — by the degree of productivity we use to define it with. But, in other cultures and times throughout history, where productivity is or has not been a primary value, we can see that people do not use time or even have an awareness of time that resembles the way we do here in the West. And, often because of that difference, we have trouble not only understanding, but also valuing that timeless-frame of reference. This might be evident in our tendency to view such cultures, if not individuals, as...lazy, especially through the lens of whether or not they are producing something.
I find myself, wondering, against such a backdrop, if there is any kind of moral to this story. I’m not a huge fan anymore of moralizing (it seems to suck a quality out of the thing). But, it strikes me that perhaps our greatest opportunity, especially in terms of use of the resources that we have, is primarily our attention — to embrace anything we can that the moment brings to us. If it’s painful, embrace it — grieve. If it’s joyous, embrace it — be happy. Many days seem somewhere in between…if that’s the case, embrace it, too. This disposition can enable us to have the most availability to ourselves and to what is going on around us. And, it can disarm what has happened before, as well as all that we try to anticipate that is coming next. It allows us the also necessary feature of letting it go, as we move into the next moment, ready once again to truly receive what it will offer to us.
Perhaps a visual could assist us. Imagine our hands. Towards the past, with palms facing down, they grip something, trying hard to hold on to it. Towards the future, with palms facing out, they desperately try to push something away in an effort to protect ourselves from whatever it might bring. In the present, though, with palms gently facing up, they are simply open in an unclenched posture — ready to truly feel their way into engaging whatever the opportunity is in the moment.
While time is a kind of representation of the journey we are travelling, more importantly it is something to be embodied . We do better with it when we actually experience it, one moment at a time, like an unfolding.