My ever-changing perception of time

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My ever-changing perception of time

Time.

Merely a concept created by humans, yet it rules our lives like a ruthless dictator. From the moment we are born into this world to the moment we leave it, time is constant and indefinite. Its steady presence can be simultaneously comforting and worrisome. Time influences nearly every decision we make and begs to be wisely used.

As a young child, I always had too much time on my hands. Every morning, I was awake before sunrise, ready to take on the world. My responsibilities were limited, so I lavishly wasted away the numerous free hours at my disposal. I was rarely aware of the passing of time. Every day of the year looked the same to me. I lived blissfully unaware of the grip time had on my life.

However, a few short years made all the difference in my perception of time. I became acquainted with time and all its complexities. I still had too much of it on my hands, but now I was aware of it. Boredom became a familiar friend as I struggled with how to spend those many hours. Yet, when every day came to a close, I found myself aching for more time. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I always wanted more of it.

A few more years and yet again my perception of time was vastly different. Far from wanting more time, I wished time would move faster. Being a kid was dull and frustrating; being an adult seemed exciting and liberating. I ignored anyone who wisely reminded me to stop wishing away my childhood. I refused to acknowledge that time was my master.

The unavoidable arrival of high school forced me to see the progress of time in a new light. I was suddenly begging for it to slow down, clinging to every precious second. As homework and tests piled up, I found myself embracing the quiet moments when time seemed to stop. The natural progression of time placed a considerable burden on my shoulders. The days stretched longer, starting before the sun was up and ending long after it had made its descent into the horizon. I found myself wishing I hadn’t wasted the easier days of my childhood; time was a cold master.

There are an endless number of lessons life has yet to teach me, but one thing is finally starting to become clear to me: time is limited and precious. Every second is a blessing sent from heaven. I watch as time slips through my fingers. I spend hours worrying about the passing of time when I could simply be appreciating those moments and allowing them to reach their full potential.

I will always crave more time, but the reality is, when granted my wish, I still don’t know what to do with it. Time is elusive, mysterious, and beautiful. This will always remain true, even as my relationship with time continues to evolve.

 

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