Missives on Time
Missives on Time
I am writing this missive at the age of sixty-seven years, seven months, twenty-five days, two hours and eight minutes of time on Earth.
As I record my thoughts about time, I wonder if I understand it. Did it exist before mankind, before the big bang? Was time once only uninterrupted darkness and stillness? Was it stationary, did it pass, did it have a beginning, and will it have an ending? Did we create time, if so, why? Does time bring order to what would be chaos without it? With its intrinsic flow of past into present into future, does time offer us a place in the world?
A clock tells us when to rise from bed. A schedule tells us what time to be at work. Timetables for transportation tell us when to be at a specific location. Imagine no mention of time when planning a vacation. The material items that transport us to destinies would be useless without the measure of time. What good is an airport without a flight schedule.
To answer two of my own questions: Yes, time does bring order to what would otherwise be chaos. And no, we did not create time, we created the measure of time, and chaos is why we created it.
We read of past events we never witnessed. Centuries old stories of people who once lived on this Earth tell us what time was like then. We hear tales of family members gone and imagine a time when they were here before us. Some remember when they were here with us. Time gives us our place in the world.
We use time to mark and record the chronology of events. Our wedding invitations tell guests on what date and at what time they should be present at what location to be witnesses to a significant change in the lives of two people. A child is born, an elderly family member passes away. For each, a document records the exact moment on the calendar of time eternal.
The Earth is believed to be around 4,000,000,000 years old. A man who lives to be 100 compared to the length of time the Earth has existed lives a life shorter than a mayfly’s life measured in human time. Thus, man’s time on Earth is fleeting, a nanosecond in the continuous, infinite motion called the arrow of time.
I do not know when my time began. It was at the moment of conception, but there is no record of the specific date, hour and minute. There is a precise measure of the time of my birth, there will be a precise measure of the time of my death. Nevertheless, when I depart the earthly world, my time will continue in memory. Friends will recall me. Daughter and grandchildren will remember when… . Then, the time will come when friends and family will pass. And when there is no one left who remembers me, my time will end.
By – Roger White
Recorded On 19 November 2023 at 10:12 am CST
Copyright © Roger White | Year Posted 2024
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