What is time? Does time even exist? Is it an allusive abstract entity that only persists in the minds of those who notice it? Or is it a fixed idea that ticks on regardless of the observer’s awareness? Ahhhh forget it, I don’t have time for this shit.
Some people are really anal about time. If you are late, they see it as a personal assault – that you don’t respect them, because you are not honoring their time. In our western capitalist culture where time = money, time takes on this very different meaning. It is not just about the existential awareness of mortality, but more that actual minutes are potential to make money. So if you are wasting my time, you are wasting my money.
In other cultures that are not as obsessed with currency, time is a loose idea. If an Australian Aborigine says I will see you tomorrow, they could show up two weeks later. I once went to Cuba, lost my visa, and had to wait in line for 2 days in order to get a new one. 2 DAYS! At the end of day 1 the officials were like “come back tomorrow and wait in line another day” and nobody cared.
The concept of rushing through life in actuality is absurd, because there is nothing to rush towards. This is life! Even when all you are doing is standing around waiting for something.
Yet, I am a product of my conditioning, and actually am obsessed with time. My family is compulsively early to everything, and that trait has been passed on to me. When I was a teenager we all went to Switzerland to spend the holidays with my grandparents. When it came time to leave, my dad told my brother and I that we would be departing the house at 4am sharp because we had a 3-hour drive to the airport. I didn’t question him, and dutifully woke at 3:45 to be ready. We got to the airport, checked in, and I asked my dad what time was the flight.
My dad: 2:45 PM
It was 7:15 AM.
Another time my family was all going to go to my brother’s graduation from graduate school. We were staying in DC, because the night before happened to by my grandfather’s funeral. I had just driven cross country in 70 hours to make it to the service, and was in rare form. For some reason, that night seemed like a good idea to eat the pot brownies I had brought from Seattle. Not sure why this was my decision, especially considering our departure time for the graduation was 4:15 am.
I can’t say I actually “slept” that night… but more stared at the wall in fear of my toothbrush that kept telling me what to do. You are not the boss of me!!! When I got in the limo with my family I was still pretty high, and stayed quiet during the 2-hour drive while I watched my mom’s face melt into her neck. When we got to my brother’s school it was 6:45 AM.
Toni: What time is the graduation?
My brother: 1pm.
Toni: Of course it is.
It was so early that we couldn’t even get breakfast – which was harder than you think to wait for – because I was pretty hungry.
So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at myself for showing up at the airport yesterday 31/2 hours early for my flight… or that my dad was stressed out I was going to miss my plane.
