In either hand he holds the sun and moon. He controls every millisecond, to every millennium, and all things before in-between and after.
His name is Papa Time.
I think at times we all wish to control the sun and moon, play with night and day on strings like a marionette, and control the timing of what happens in our lives.
We like to think that we control the timing of things, but we don’t, because we cant.
And that in itself is a scary thought.
Or a completely amazing one.
Each morning when you wake up, acknowledge the fact that that someone somewhere went to sleep the same time as you did the night before.
This person planned out what they would wear to work, what they would eat for breakfast, and the errands they would run the next day,
This person lays in bed texting his girlfriend for whom he cares for deeply. He is not good at saying how he feels. He knows he loves her, but has been unable to say it. Before telling his girlfriend goodnight he lets her know that he has something he wants to tell her tomorrow, something that he has needed to say and that she needs to hear. In his restless mind he plans how he will tell this girl three words that have been impossible for him until now.
“I love you.”
Both of you set your alarm for the same time and close your eyes to get some rest.
You wake up grumpy complaining about work and the fact that it’s Monday. You are rude to everyone you meet throughout the day. You waste precious time being negative and after work you head home. When you get home you complain some more about having to wake up the following day. You set your alarm again, banking on the fact that you will have the opportunity to be awoken by it in 8 hours.
You close your eyes to go to sleep, while halfway across the country a woman cannot close hers because of the tears she weeps.
This woman’s eyes are red and her mind cannot comprehend the last 24 hours. She has lost someone that she loved dearly. She reads through their text conversation the night before, laughing through tears about some of the silly things he said. She reads the last text he sent and begins sobbing uncontrollably again.
“Goodnight. Tomorrow I wanna tell you something that I’ve been wanting to for a while. Its something that I want you to hear from me face to face.”
24 hours earlier both of you set your alarm banking on the fact that you would wake up to it.
You woke up.
Time is the most precious and irreplaceable thing that humans have. When it is gone, it’s gone forever.
Sometimes things that are left unsaid can never be recovered.
They are gone forever, because they never were used. They were invested in time that did not yet exist.
The only time that is guaranteed is the moment that just passed as you read this. The only time you have has already been used.
Time is ticking.
What you say and do with the unforeseeable amount of the precious resource is what makes life worth living, not the amount you are given.
We are dying from the day we are born.
Time is precious, and it is the precious things in life that really matter.
Life is death.
And death is beautiful.