Time 2: time is on my side
I suppose my recent contemplations on time are just a continuation of an internal conversation I’ve been having for as long as my consciousness has been mature enough to assess time objectively.
All it has done is create an anxiety layer that I’m able to shave down or even shed from time to time. But it always grows back.
How does one know if they’ve spent their time accordingly?
I suppose one must define it for themselves, or continually redefine and reshape its meaning. Bucking up against these definitions are the societally conceived notions of success that we all hold ourselves up to in comparison whether we are aware of it or not.
90% of the time I feel as though I’ve wasted my entire time so far. The anxiety layer is like a snow jacket.
5% of the time I feel as though it doesn’t really matter anyways because one day I will no longer be and no one will care and there is no such thing as legacy for a small little speck of walking dust like me (anxiety layer = long-sleeve shirt).
The other 5% of the time, I find a tenuous comfortability with the way I’ve spent my time and accept that I put undue pressure on myself. That I’m straining from pushing so hard. That things will work out in the end. I just have to stay focused and positive and do the best that I can. (anxiety layer = clean shave, little bit of stubble).
I find comfort though, in the thought that these sorts of feelings on time are common and frequent in most 21stcentury human beings.
But why do we feel this way, and increasingly so?
I think it boils down to options. Too many options.
We used to want options. And now we got ‘em. Boy, do we got ‘em.
Entertainment options. Platforms where we can engage with such entertainment options.
Career options.
Location options.
Mental health options.
Mood options.
Gender options.
All of it feels dramatically precipitated by the bane that is social media, where the choices are aplenty and accountability is barren and anyone can drop bombs from a distance under the guise of anonymity.
Too bad we can’t get any more political options as pertaining specifically to the United States. That’s an area we are sorely lacking in and could benefit from greatly. Yet the system is just not built for that sort of thing. Very few folks are willing to kiss the ring and debase themselves to the extent that will attract the Super PAC financing and one of two party preferencing necessary to become a viable option. Even money isn’t everything these days, much to the chagrin of the Con Heads. But I digress. When the best folks for the job don’t want the job, perhaps it’s time to reassess things.
I can see how the old guard thought that the more options, the merrier. It was the right path to take, one that would create a healthier and happier society. A future worth fighting for.
In theory, this makes sense. Yet it doesn’t take into account the human disposition and our natural ethos.
That more actually means too much and we don’t know what to do with it. No matter how much we do (or don’t do), it feels like we didn’t do enough. Like we should have done the things that we didn’t do. Like there is always something better out there, no matter how much we like what we have in front of us. We’re restless for the other things.
We need more direction, more ways to cut through the clutter of choices before us. This is why some people turn to Jesus or Mohammed or God or god or Kanye West to point the way.
Soon we will societally be at some kind of breaking point, where more options push everyone further into blissfully ignorant little silos. Politics is setting the trend for this, where it is increasingly in vogue to hate your enemy and squash them like bugs. There is no nuance anymore. Only good and bad, us and them. No more grey. With us or against us.
Having said all of these things and seeing the state of the world, maybe there truly is only one way to spend your time wisely: with loved ones doing the things you like and doing the best you can and holding on for a while and then letting go.
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I like to watch TV. It brings me great pleasure, even when I’m watching bad TV, which I don’t do often but when you watch as much TV as I do you’re bound to see something shitty from time to time. For the most part, my track record of shows watched is pretty remarkable. My taste is impeccable. I’m on some prestige-only shit. For the most part. Except for the occasions where some shit gets in my schedule.
But is this the most productive usage of my time?
If it brings me joy, then I suppose the answer is yes. But if it gets me nowhere in life, then I suppose the answer is no.
Maybe both are OK. Maybe I need both to exist. I need the duality.
Maybe the beauty is that the answer will always be out there, never to be truly found. The pursuit of the answer, the always wondering if the answer will come around, is part of the beauty of living. Once you know, it’s all over.
There have been many finales to shows that I love recently. Many characters found themselves at the ends of fruitless pursuits, only to realize their pursuit was fruitless. All they can do is turn around and look back at the road they had just traveled, and smile, knowing they had missed the journey in order to get to the destination. They had missed so, so much.
I suppose I don’t want to be like that, but it’s actively difficult not to be like that. Being like that is human.
I keep feeling as though the fix to this feeling is just a shot away.
But not today. Today I accept that I am both young and old and that I know nothing and the answer is not necessarily out there but within me.