“It is said that time passes. Time never passes. We pass through time. ”
( Garabet Ibrăileanu )
We encounter time since we slide into life. Not when we are born, but 270 days before, when ” we are offered” birth. We take the gift without being asked if we want it, if we choose to come .Or for how long we shall stay… We are born as a new year is born, expected and unknown, inevitable. We fall into the world as snow falls from the sky, pure and godlike. Have you ever looked at the freshly fallen snow? Before stepping on it? Or a perfect snowflake melted in the heat of the hand at the fraction of a second? Time takes us by the hand and we learn to crawl through it, to stand up, to walk, to run. Have you ever thought that time is differently perceived in a child? The passing months make a difference? That a child says he is 5 years and 2 months old while an adult will never say that he is 58 years and 4 months old? Children feel time and time feels them….. They expect tomorrow as a new day, wake up happily, to see what it brings to them….. They love waiting and time loves to be loved … Waiting, impatiently awaited vacations, birthdays ,adulthood, love …. All meetings are running TOWARDS time – and with open arms … Like a child waiting for a guest with gifts and surprises.
We pass through time when we change the number prefixes of our years … decades, not days or minutes or seconds…. When time feels unappreciated and unloved….. When tomorrow eats up today….. When you live for plans with all the verbs in the future tense, all the time….. When what you need to happen is more important than what is happening now. When we hurry and thoughtfully pass beside blooming trees in spring, pigeons in parks, or do not sit in the sun for the sake of staying with the face in the sun. When you constantly check the ticking of the clock and not the ticking hearts of others.
We pass through time when we fear that we took our timeshares … When our flesh is cut by artificial patterns and society’s mores…. When we do not run TOWARDS time, but we race with it. A crazy race to do what is expected of our timed race …And who holds the timer? They do not understand that people breathe in and out rhythmically, but we do not carry “an expiration date” …. Hiding years out of vanity, like hiding money in safes for fear of thieves …… Denying time we were given as a gift , years hidden in shame , looking for lost youth and expecting deathless lives… Youth is not lost, as long as there is the child within us, full of pranks and full of sparkle. So time feels less loved…
Moving through time as we go through stations. Stations of seasons, days, years. We stop to celebrate anniversaries. But every day is a celebration. A celebration that we are alive. That we woke up next to our loved ones. We have them, for a while …It’s a celebration: every breath we take, every heartbeat, every watering of the eyelid. Every flourishing smile. Time likes smiles. It feels loved and loves back with gifts “at the right time … because: “All they have their time and every thing under heaven has its time.” (Eccl.3 1)
They say that time passes. Time never passes. We pass through time… Crying at birth , crawling on our belly, by playing , dreaming and loving , investing and harvesting , learning until the last moment , when we slide as we came , again without being asked if we want it , if that’s our choice … Passing through time. ..And time passes through us…
“If time” (or us) ” had leaves , what a fall that would be “ ………..( Nichita Stănescu )