Throughout life Time seems to be the only constant, even when met with doubt it proves this idea…time and time again.
Time doesn’t stand still, is never in any hurry but hates the idea of wasting away.
When we’re young Time’s introduced to us. We brush it off, dismiss it as tedious at first. Time visits, in its bystander attire; in its hands, the moment that Time and us have our meet cute.
Our mistake is thinking Time is as young as we are.
As we grow older, Time draws closer to us. We begin to see Time not as an annoyance but an acquaintance. Something we acknowledge out of necessity, and fear.
As we grow, we’re hesitantly apologetic towards Time.
We come to understand Time, not as an irritation but rather a guide who’s patience we hope to one day obtain.
Nearing the final stages of growth brings us into timeless frustrations. We wonder, “How could Time have lead us so many places only to have gotten us no where?” That patience we once wished for is replaced with contempt.
As Time is no longer an ally but a test.
Then in our final stage, once we’ve stopped trying to take control of Time, we understand that it’s none of the things we said it was while somehow being all of them. When we finally take time for ourselves we begin to see Time for what it is, a teacher. A teacher who’s always had our best interest in mind, especially when we’re heavily intent to lose track of time.
We find we need to take time to appreciate it.
In the end we’re proven wrong still. Our temporal inquisitiveness had been leading us astray.
Once our time’s ended, we stand waiting happy to be there in, no time at all. That’s when we realize that Time was never something for us to chase and catch, Time was our guardian the whole way through.
Here Time reveals its hands as it stands beside us, smiling. Realizing we’ve finally figured out what life was all about.
“It’s about time.”