Trust the timing of your life
I was once told to Trust the timing of my life.
But what is it really that I’m entrusting myself to? A ruthless grip, a raging machine that continues to drag me, and everything else in existence, into the unknown. Time, tell me then, how can I trust you?
How can we trust something we don’t understand? Mankind has always dreamt of immortality. And when I refer to dreaming, it’s really more of an obsession. We write novels on vampires who can roam the earth for all eternity, stones that allow us to extend our lifespan and magic that will keep us forever young, but more importantly, beautiful.
But even before our modern day, the Chinese wrote of a mortal who defeated the grips of time with a special elixir. The Greeks wrote about Zeus, and the times he was implored and beseeched to find ways to make man immune to death. Even Monotheistic Religions promise us the pearly gates, a sweet paradise, a place where we can finally embark on a lifetime in which we can live forever.
But time means a completely different thing when life kicks you in the guts, or when someone rips your heart out. You are always advised to be patient, that tables turn and that karma will have its way, tomorrow or today. They promise you that time eases pain, that memories fade, and that the truth prevails. Immortality becomes insignificant then, and time begins to serve a different purpose.
The internet defines time as “the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole”; an elusive concept. But time is nothing but perception. Time is an organizational tool. A calendar. A healer of wounds and karma’s best friend. Time is a missed opportunity and crossroads in love. Time is sunsets that pave the way for dawns. Time is intangible, all-encompassing and omnipresent. Time is our ever silent God.
So do we give in to time’s mantra? We probably should. And here’s why:
Simply put, I would argue that time is defined with respect to us, an utter state of mind. The trap would be to fall backwards into the past, or too far into the future. The minute we seize to exist in the present moment, time claims the upper hand. You have given into fear. The silent god prevails.
We’ve all counted on time to do its magic. We all dream of the fairy tale happy ending. Our friends at Disney and Hollywood did an awful job in changing our ways. But let us not dwell there too often, for we will be nothing but disappointed. Let us instead lose sight of time. Let it linger in the doorways in which we pass. In airports while in transit. In nature’s divine continuity. In technological progress. Let us measure it in positives, rather than in losses.
As Beau Taplin brilliantly states, “To hell with happy endings. We are here for the story”. So I suggest that we might as well go ahead and trust the timing of our lives. Trust it, for it cannot deceive you without your consent.