TIME HAS COME TODAY
At one time or another, almost everyone hears their parents utter that infamous phrase: “They grow up so fast”…When you’re little you don’t understand it, you lie in ignorance of the constantly-in-motion world, completely unaware of the speeding tunnel of time; the roar in your ears and the lights growing ever closer.
Time is a tricky substance, hard to manipulate and impossible to control. There’s no ‘off’ switch so you can just take a break for a little while. So often people want to do this, just buy a few more hours to get something accomplished, or freeze at a point they want never to change. Yep…we grow up so fast.
The igniter of all this was my observation of holiday paraphernalia, which seemed to be solely sponsoring every television channel and local store I would encounter. The thing is, I was making these observations the day after Thanksgiving. I turned on the radio this weekend and was treated to three separate carols, coming out one after another. I went down my street yesterday, and passed house after house drenched in lights. I pondered briefly on my memories of school shopping back in August, recalling it as easily as if it were only yesterday. Is it really almost December? It seems like Halloween crept up behind us, blowing over in one swift gust…Thanksgiving strode over politely, patiently waiting for us to give it our attention. I have a nagging feeling though that the rest of the winter holidays are going to wrap us into a frenzy, exploding on us with the fireworks of New Year’s.
This cycle has already succeeded countless times, leaving us with fresh memories and new perspectives. Each revolution is unique though-and it can’t pause or rotate in its routine. Changes are always spinning past and around us, as we race through that tunnel of time. This realization is what made an effect on me, not the premature decorations and celebrations…Time is passing, things are changing, and you can’t go back.
My little brother lost a tooth a few days ago, and it hit me that soon, he would be running out of baby teeth. He’s ten years old, but I remember being at the hospital when he was born. I remember his first steps, and yet someday he’s going to be taller than me.
My sister is going to graduate in only 6 months. I’m not going to see her everyday at school anymore. I’m not even going to see her everyday at home. I’m not going to live with her anymore. She’s almost an adult. When did that happen? (It must have been around the same time I became a ‘big kid.’)
In a little over six months I’m going to finish my sophomore year, turn sixteen, and play my trumpet with the band at my sister’s graduation. Wasn’t it just a little while ago that she was showing me how to twirl a locker com back in fifth grade, or showing me where my classes were at the high school?…I’m never going to have a first-day-back-at-school with her again. Soon it’ll be me in her position, finishing high school to go out into the world, leaving a sibling behind. How is that possible?
People rush things because they’re scared of how fast life changes. They don’t want to miss things; they’re desperate not to get lost in the roaring of the tunnel and the speeding of time. However in this, they end up losing some of the most precious parts of the moment. They take pictures instead of just living them, so sure they can capture the moment. You can’t though, not all of them. You can’t go back to it, most of the time you can only risk looking back over your shoulder for it, and end up missing something else.
Live for the moment, and bask in it. Don’t rush the world along so fast that you forget to enjoy the ride. Admire the scenery, because before you know it, the tunnel will curve and you’ll have a whole new passageway to maneuver.