Spend a little time reading about time

                The clock never stops ticking. Of all the manmade constructs, time is the most destructive. Through our use of time, we devalue ourselves, and erode away our essence. Every morning we get up and look at our clocks in dismay upon seeing the time. Only an hour until work. Only an hour for lunch. My time is worth so little, yet my time is literally all I have. From the moment we can begin to process time, we understand that we have only a finite time to live. Every day from birth, the clock ticks constantly onto our demise. Time, dear reader, is all we have, and all we have is an idea created by man to determine our intrinsic value. Time is arbitrary. It’s inconsistent. Time changes so much to the point where it doesn’t matter, and yet we grasp it tight to our chest in the fear that it can slip away from us. But what purpose does time have outside of giving us a monetary value? What happens when one stops relying on time and simply starts to live?

                John was a simple man, as evidenced by his simple name. He went to work when his hours told him to, and he did not when his hours said not to. Soon his whole life revolved around his. His hours not working were simply a count down until he worked again, and his working hours were a count down until he could be at home again. A ceaseless cycle of countdowns leading to other countdowns. Life became an algorithm: When X=9:00, Y=work; When X=5:00, Y=? John would spend his working days in a mindless cycle of emails, phone calls, and idle gossip over his co-workers neighbours at coffee; while his nights were spent just as rigidly scheduled: 5:30 arrive home, 6:00 supper, 6:30 the news, 7:00 unremarkable crime procedural, 8:00 video games with friends, 9:30 get ready for bed, 10:00 read, 10:30 sleep. So lost in this endless cycle of his own creation, his once passions became chores that needed to be done so his day would feel complete.

                With each passing day, John lost joy in his activities. So focused on the passage of time, he forgot how to enjoy being alive. As so many do, John grew depressed at his mindless repetition. He hated what his life had become; mindlessly clocking the hours, yet he could not bring himself to stop it.

                Then, one horribly non-routine day, John lost his job. How this happened is not of import, the only thing that affects the story is that it happened. John was lost. He had no job to center his life around; the mere concept of time had become completely meaningless to him. On that day, John sat in a park. John had not sat in a park without an express purpose in many years. Today, in complete disarray, he simply sat on a bench and watched a pigeon.

                The pigeon would hop around the grass in front of John, occasionally stopping and thrusting its head into the grass only to reappear with a morsel of bread proudly in its beak. The pigeon soon noticed John watching it, and would, at times, pause and simply stare back at John. Could this pigeon see what turmoil John was experiencing? Or was this some natural response to being watched? (Most likely the answer is the latter and regrettably not the former) John sat entranced by this pigeon, mesmerized by the way the bird moved, the way it would cock its head in question at John’s staring, and its indifference as it rooted around for food.

                Once the pigeon had taken its fill, with one last questioning look at John, it took off and flew away. John watched the bird fly for as long as he could see, and for a long period after, John simply stared at the point of which he lost sight.

                With a shiver he realized that night had fallen, and that he had spent the entire afternoon at this park. He hadn’t answered a single phone call, replied to any emails, or read a single text for hours. In fright he pulled out his phone, only to find that he didn’t care to reply to anything as he unlocked the screen. His car was parked across the street, but John decided to walk to his apartment. The brisk air felt good on his skin, and it cleared his mind. All the fears of time constraints and deadlines melt off of him as he walked down the street.

                He was smiling as he unlocked the door to his apartment. He made some food, watched a movie, and then went to sleep—all without checking a clock.

                Mankind needs some way to keep track of events and deadlines, so time was a necessary invention. One of the necessary evils in a world filled with necessary and unnecessary ones. Yet our dependence and utter devotion to time has corrupted it into something that is dreaded. Time is an invention that is meant to serve us, and yet we serve it. We worship at the feet of the all might clock and calendar, and into it we feed our very life force, until all we have left is a feeling of emptiness and self-pity.

                Time is so integral in our day to day lives, that it has become the focal point of our very existence. No longer a mere convenience, it dictates every part of life. Imagine how life would be if we expended the energy wasted worrying about time on something useful? Yet no one can escape this worry, especially in this age of time saving. Even I, as I sit here typing this, am worrying about the time it is taking me! We rate relationships by the length of time that we have known the other person, instead of by how they make us feel; what they mean to us. When I look at my friends, is my oldest friend my dearest one? No, but that does not diminish the fact that she is still my oldest friend. When I look at how long I’ve known my best friends, does their relationship to me become less meaningful simply because I have not known them for as long? No.

                Time, we like to pretend, is a linear thing with a beginning and an end. We like to pretend that time exists as the same for everyone as it does us, and that time does not repeat itself. Time, seemingly simple, is irritatingly complex! And yet it governs our life so completely! I do not escape this. I allow time to govern my life. I follow a schedule and get thrown whenever I break it for some strange reason. I hate it. I wish I could appreciate my life outside of the time constraints I put on myself, and I am endeavouring to do just that. But in a world filled with deadlines, I have chosen a profession that thrives on the deadline. 

Who we are when the lights go out

                What we do in the dark often betrays who we truly are. When there is no one around to see, when the cameras are put down, and the sun has gone to rest, the truth always comes out. This may seem inherently negative, but I assure you that is not the case! Many times that true self is someone that is more selfless and courageous than some that is selfish and cowardly.

                It was at night, for instance, that I discovered my neighbour’s predilection for dressing in elaborate costumes and cleaning the street that ran in front of our houses. Every second night, at an hour that most should be asleep, my neighbour would appear in the street bedecked with a bright cape, tights, a masquerade-style mask, and an extremely tight t-shirt. He would then walk up and down the street picking up any trash he could find, and would dispose of it in an exaggerated manner. For weeks, I watched this. Sometimes he looked like he was simply doing it out of habit, while other times it looked like he was having the time of his life—the one constant was his costume. It never changed. In his mind, he was acting the hero. In my mind too.

                I worked the graveyard shift at a local gas station when I was younger. I would see a lot of…interesting people come out at night. A lot of drunks, a lot of druggies, and others of questionable morals. But there was one woman who came out at night and just shone. She was the local lawyer, and kind of disliked by large portions of the town, but every night she would come out and bring food and blankets to the less fortunate members of the community. She always came alone, and as soon as she caught people watching her or trying to sneak a picture, she would leave the area—only to come back later to finish. She didn’t want the accolades, she didn’t want fame, she just wanted to help people.

                Here’s the thing: I always have more respect for the people who go out of their way to help others without being seen, than those people who need the cameras to be on them whenever they lift a finger for their fellow man.

                But who am I when the lights go out? Who am I when no one is around to see?

                I watched my neighbour clean the street for weeks before getting bored and moving on to something else. I watched the lawyer give all she could to the less fortunate before ceasing to care about it. I went on with my life, living it as I had for years.

                What did this make me?

                A person who watched others do good in secret, yet did none of my own?

                Or by observing these secret acts, do I give them validation?

                These thoughts plagued my sleep, and gave me waking nightmares. What would I be remembered for? Did that even matter? Even amidst my thoughts of selflessness, I concerned myself with selfish thoughts.

                Who was I when the lights went out? I liked to believe that I was a good person, but did my deeds ever match my thoughts?

                I thought back.

                All my acts of charity had been done in full sight of those around me. All my giving was done where I could be seen. I wanted people to know when I was doing good. I went out of my way to ensure that people would see my kindness.

                So what did that make me?

                Who are you when the lights go out? 

An Infinite Sky

     I was out for a walk today with my dog, and the sky was absolutely breathtaking. Right in the middle was heavy cloud, flanked on either side by wondrous colour: one side was the oranges and yellows of the setting sun, on the other a light blue, everything stretching to the horizons.

dramatic shot of Teasag (pronounced Chessa) digging

    Under this impressive sky I had to stop, just to try and process what I was seeing. As I stood soaking in the majesty of the infinite, every care and worry on my soul shrank into trivialities. I stood on the edge of forever and everything fell into perspective. The universe was open to me, and for one beautiful instant I saw just how trivial all of my problems were compared to the whole. 

    Our world is falling apart, and I was worried about getting a book published. People are fleeing for their lives, their homes destroyed, and I was worried about bills. 

     As I stood there, under eternity, a wall broke inside of me, and I felt the pain that humanity itself is experiencing right now. It wasn't a piercing or stabbing pain, it was a dull ache as if something had been torn out a long time ago and never been replaced. 

     Never before this moment, have I felt the connectedness of all humanity. It burned through me, leaving me shaken. All this hate around the world is breaking us apart more than we already are. If the human race has ever needed love, it's right now. I pray to the gods above for love, to heal this fractured world we live in. Everyday something happens to try and break my belief in the human spirit, and everyday it is harder for me to believe in humanity, but I have not given up hope. I can't. If I gave up hope in humanity, I would be resigning myself to a dark future. I cannot allow myself to be part of that. So everyday I get up, and I stand up for humanity. I stand as a light in the darkness. I am turning the other cheek, and I am reaching out my hand to help those who need it. 

     The other day, a "Christian" asked me if I would help someone if they had hurt me, my response was simple. All I said was: Matthew 5:39. For those of you who aren't Christian, the verse, including the one previous for context, reads: "You have heard that it was said, 'AN EYE FOR AN EYE, AND A TOOTH FOR A TOOTH.' But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also." We live in an age where the answer to any aggression is revenge, and even Christians are joining in on that. Which baffles me because it's the exact opposite of what Christ would've done. Maybe it's silly of me to believe that Christians would follow Christ's example though... I try to, but most Christian churches in the area don't exactly care for my "radical" version of Christianity. Radical being I try to follow Christ's example. 

      Funny old world. 

     Amazing what a sky can do.

     Especially when that sky is showing you the infinite.