Through eras, eons, ages, generations, seasons, pasts, presents, futures, time sees itself in many increments large and small combining up to all. We seem to use it to serve us in hopes of a more efficient practice daily, so we break it down into years, months, work weeks, weekends, hours, minutes, and seconds. It help reminds us that we are early, on-time, or late; why do we give it the power to escape to quickly never having enough or torturing us until the sun sets?
I remember when I was in Italy and I planned to meet a girl in old school fashion since our flip phones were not that reliable. We got to know each other on the flight and as she approached on the cobblestone in the afternoon sunshine of Florence, she said, “You’ve never been late in your life, have you?” A really great pickup on her part but I can’t recall many. One memory that sticks out was when I opened Planet Fitness at 6am on the weekends and didn’t show until 7:30. My girlfriends birthday on Friday had me overindulging and I woke up on the couch with her and many missed calls. I worked alone and I got the business from the regulars more than the owner who had to come in.
It’s amazing that I can put myself right back on that couch as consciousness flooded back into my body, which I was hurting from the position I slept, the hangover, and the allergies of a Florida spring; eyes terribly bloodshot, wheezing, and sneezing. Plus the guilt of letting down my boss. The amount of thoughts I took-in berating my sloppiness was not time well spent. But because the emotion was so incredible I can always go to that time in an instant.
If one possess the ability to time travel in great detail from past successes or failures why not hit the sweet spot of victory more often? Staying on the same timeline as the above-mentioned MIA fiasco, I also was finishing real estate school and preparing for the state exam. Tuesday and Thursday nights I put time in a shitty St. Pete house converted to RE school with a goal over the 3 months to become a realtor. The problem was I told everyone I knew that I was going to take the state exam and then I learned the stats; 60% fail rate only needing 80% to pass.
I recall headed down a crowded Gunn Highway to Tampa and the nerves that one must feel in a Championship bout, this is it, no try, this time is win or lose. This was 2003 and behind a bulky tan computer I sat choosing from A, B, C, and D. The math was only 10%. Which was universal but the law questions were difficult to interpret; there’s always two right answerers but one supersedes.
I clicked submit and headed out among 30 others clicking away quietly, seriously. A woman wearing a navy-blue suit grabbed me and guided me into a side room that was barely lit. The atmosphere felt like a casket match with the Undertaker and I anticipated a burial. But her DMV demeanor softened with a smile cracking, “you passed” she grinned as relief rushed into euphoria of a 22yr. old.
Now if I examine time in all these phases it presents itself in so many forms. Even though driving in Florida is heavy and sucks didn’t bother me on the way there for the test. On the other hand, there is no easy way to St. Pete from Palm Harbor and those Tuesdays and Thursdays add extra 1hr 45 a day when you’re exhausted. The hour and half I took for 100 questions dissipated rather quickly. The moment in the room with the state official was dripping with humid Florida ball sweat for what was hours to me. The victory only lasted until I was in the workforce and learning the hard way. I suppose I’m wondering if time is a gift like the present or the opposite?
I started writing this because I was feeling down and time was focused on the negative. I had to remind myself to direct thoughts in a different direction but how? Let it out acknowledge that I’m hurting today in time. Why? I presume not being able to get reciprocation externally for what I give off, signal is busy; but happiness starts inside. Fuck that’s what it said at the top of my white board last week but I falter in time.
When I get really upset and angry I start pointing the finger, I want them to feel the pain, like it’s their fault; it’s not. I can choose but when the train starts rolling seek and destroy the time is now. That is until I pull the ripcord and jump out. Words appearing on paper/screen in moments is monumental for me to understand, accept, and surrender that I’m the master of my 86,400 seconds. I’m 100% responsible for my position in the present and I choose what’s important to me with the time I spend on it.
Now that’s been acknowledged we can move forward, linear. Or we can go back or forward. The choice held has magnificent power and I shouldn’t dismiss it as another day. The power is always in now. That brings up an encounter I had with an entrenched journalist from Iraq named Scott that was my age and a well-established young man, so I took him to lunch.
He said, “Steve, two dogs are going to fight at the end of the week. One has been fed the other is starving, which one do you think will win?” “The hungrier one,” I said with confidence at a Tampa Chilis. I was wrong. As Arnold said in Pumping Iron, “Yea, it’s true (he’s hungry) but when I’m hungry the food is there.”
Time is neither here nor there, with us or against us. I think we should just accept existence has always existed. Making sense out it for man from sundials and calendars is logical but what supersedes that is Gandalf, “all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given.” The power of appointing, designating, and embracing time is on our will. Put the wind behind the sail for the destination and cruise right into port. And if you get lost Captain Ron said, “We’ll just pulls in somewhere and ask directions boss.”
