Seasons, chapters, whatever you call them; those chunks of life define us: Infancy, Youth, Puberty, Adolescence, College, Career, Marriage, Parenting, Grandchildren, Retirement, our passing. Beginning, middle and end, we only get our short few years on this planet. How we live those years, every choice, changes our path, our possibilities. Our lives are never ending change; a constant flux of intertwining events, leading to endless possibilities. A mere wrong turn can lead to fortune or death. Whatever else we think or believe, we all agree. There just isn’t enough time.
Roger McGuinn and the Byrds serenaded us with a lyrical adaptation of Ecclesiastes:
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to
David Gilmore and Pink Floyd gave us the haunting words:
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way...
…Every year is getting shorter; never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.
Time, is our most precious commodity. We gain knowledge daily, we can beg borrow or steal more money. We can find new friends, gain influence and power. But time; time is in control. We get what we get. We can’t buy it, barter it, trade it or create it. We are utterly at it’s mercy.
I find as I get older, that the clock seems to move faster. The days on the calendar slip by quicker than ever. The shorter the candle, the faster it burns. “It’s not fair!” we lament. Give me just a few more years of health; time to enjoy children and grandchildren. We crave more years of seasons. Season of our world, seasons of our lives, seasons of the lives around us.
“Time Marches On” “You are about out of time” “Time’s up!” “All in due time” “There’s no time like the present” “In the nick of time” “Time flies when you’re having fun”. Our culture revolves around time. We obsess over it, we are short of it in all things. We rush, rush, rush. Seldom do we “take our time” or “stop and smell the roses”. We are so busy keeping up with time constraints upon us; appointments, getting to work on time, breaks, lunches, overtime, travel schedules (late flights, Grrrrr), that we miss many opportunities that time affords us. We fail to literally stop and smell the roses, or the fresh cut grass; the myriad smells of the woods or a field, so different with each season. How many sunrises and sunsets do we savor? Even for a few minutes. Rain and snow, those incredibly fresh unmistakable aromas of our world.
Our food goes over lips teeth and gums in a rushing waterfall of meal after meal. How often do we eat slowly; really enjoying the experience? Those few moments when as a parent you pause at your child’s door as you leave the room, having just tucked them in. That is time well spent indeed.
Seasons change, and time marches on; as inevitably and inexorably as death and taxes. Take stock of your account. How much time do you have? Poor health empties the account quickly. Stress does the same. Count your days, count your blessings and don’t let time get the best of you; get the best from what time you have.