Life and Time

On any given day, there is a huge three-lane parking lot of cars moving at the speed of snail in both directions of I-95, while the two-lane EZ-Pass is almost empty because nobody can afford the confiscatory fees set by the “investors” who were given free reign to the taxpayer-built road. Time is money and life but on this suffocated road time seems still. Our lives ticktock away while we wait to move a few feet before we stop again as if we have all the time in the world.

Time has little significance when you wait in endless lines under socialist societies run by the Communist Party to buy bread and rationed kilos of flour, rice, oil, and sugar.

Time is not important when you visit the one doctor assigned to 10,000 patients in the area, wait in a crowded room the entire day, and receive a prescription for your temporary ailment, prescription that you cannot fill because the pharmacies are empty. Survival and the black market preoccupy us, not time.

What happens when immediate survival and looming starvation are most important variables? How do we view time then? Standing hours in long lines makes time unimportant.

How do we use our limited time on earth? It depends on each person’s idea of living, fast or slow. How do we frame time delays caused by life’s variables? How do people accept them?

Delays are not something people in western societies think much about in terms of time wasted that can never be brought back; we are always in a hurry, and delayed gratification is forgotten because we have so many choices that frame time and possibilities differently.

How people tolerate and react publicly to delays is another matter. Impatience and tolerance for delays are easy to see in people’s actions and in the incidence of sidewalk and highway rage.

Impatience to time wasted can be measured by the number of seconds of sound bites we are willing to listen to or watch. Yet people glare at inserted ads without questioning time wasted on those cumulative moments. Those trying to make money are robbing you of time.

Oliver Burkeman wrote that calculations have been made to determine how long a shopper is willing to wait on slow-loading pages on electronic devices. It was calculated that, “if Amazon’s front page loaded one second more slowly, the company would lose $1.6 billion in annual sales.” (p. 163, Oliver Burkeman, “Four Thousand Weeks, Time Management for Mortals, 2021)

Our impatience is strongly related to the realization that the average human lives a short 4,160 months if they live to be 80 years old?

Most people stopped reading books with the excuse that they have no time to read. There is a huge flood of information that requires their precious time. Yet they trap themselves on social media surfing for hours or playing games to escape reality.

Prior to 2008, we had to wait a long time for the dial-up modem. Before that we had cable and a myriad of channels, but Baby Boomers had a simpler life and four channels to waste time on.

We spend a third of our lives sleeping yet nobody stops to think what they could do with some of that time if our bodies did not need sleep to stay alive.

Are we “speed addicts” or just realize suddenly, thanks to technology, how limited our time on earth is? Perhaps we experienced a traumatic event, and it brought the realization of finite time, if nothing else bad happens?

Once this level of realization is reached, time seems to fly even faster. We appreciate time deeply, we tune in to surrounding nature, and a profound awareness of limitations vis-à-vis the remaining months of life. The tendency to distraction becomes smaller. “Being alive becomes the sum of everything to which you pay attention.”

Distraction is seen as divergence from your timed life, an accumulation of lapses in focus. Burkeman wrote about the “attention economy” which persuades you to direct your attention to things that are not important in your finite life.

Social media is a huge life interrupter and time stealer. It redirects your attention to “Reels,” sound and video bites, sometimes educational, but often worthless entertainment. Ads for that magical ingredient that might cure what ails you, traps you for forty minutes before you find out at the end what it is.

I often waste my time with amateur photography. I have taken over 24,000 photos and videos of museums and places I may never visit again. Instead of enjoying those moments more, I spent time capturing them on film so that I can re-visit them later which seldom comes. My husband jokes that, during our hikes through the woods, I have taken photos of the same trees, during different seasons.

We are all guilty of utilizing and wasting time in diverse ways based on our temperament, hobbies, habits, and skewed valuation of time on earth or lack thereof.