Tag Archives: passage of time

Death of a Flake

 

 

He swirls into the room

Unmindful of the stares

People stepping back

He goes where he would

Oblivious to all

But his own desires.

But then,

Something ahead

He turns

Perhaps in fear

And falters

Slowly he succumbs

Down he drops

Darting left

Twisting right

Is there no escape?

Will no one help?

Alone he falls,

Alone he dies.

A single flake of snow

Fireside.

Here’s the thing . . .

Time.  We never seem to have enough of it. It’s always getting in the way. We have passed it, try to keep it or even wished it away. Some days it seems to control everything we do. Time. We invented it and like Frankenstein’s monster, it is wrecking havoc!

The Egyptians were the first to start dividing the day into segments. They were not the only ones.  The ancient Greeks, the Chinese, Tibet, Japan, England and many others all had a hand in creating the concept we call Time. The first devices to follow it were created as early as 2000 BC. And we still can’t seem to get it right!

We have fine-tuned the concept even more and we now divide the day into ridiculously small components. Milliseconds, seconds, minutes, hours, . . .  and almost everyone seems to be attached to a device that follows those seconds and even vocally informs us of how much we have left. People are obsessed with it. When I went looking into this idea for my post, I found almost 10,000 quotes related to time. Some were funny, some could inspire you, some are even considered wise old saying. The Internet is a wonderful place to fine lists of things . . .

“Time waits for no one.” Folklore

“Lost time is never found again.” Benjamin Franklin

“Time brings all things to pass.” Aeschylus

“If you love life, don’t waste time, for time is what life is made up of.”  Bruce Lee

“A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.” Charles Darwin

Definitely a popular topic. And so it should be!  86,400 seconds. That’s it. One day. 86,400 seconds. Some of that is spent sleeping, eating, the other thing we do because we eat, that we don’t talk about. But how much of that time do we spent in contemplation? How much of that time do we spend acknowledging the miracle that is life? I know, I know, most people don’t want to think about it. But our time here is finite. Nobody gets out alive. We need to be aware, to notice the beauty, be inspired by that which is all around us. We use Time to control our lives but it also helps us to focus on what that life actually is. Once the time is gone, it is past and cannot be relived. As long as we can remember our past, it will never die and that moment in time can be preserved. But perhaps we should notice first and preserve second. Time can be your friend but never forget it’s only a label.

Seasonal Changes

I know I posted this last year but I like this story and there are a few amongst you who may not have seen it.  So, sorry and enjoy!

Lea looked around her and smiled.  Life was good.  She felt as if she was on top of the world.  Which in fact, was not too far from the truth.  She was high enough to look down on the teeming masses and feel superior.

A gentle breeze moved around her and she shivered in delight.  With the sun on her face and the faintest wafts of air to keep the bugs at bay, there was no other place Lea would have preferred to be. Here she could while away the days in thought and feeling.  The whole experience was a hedonistic surplus of sensation.

It is dangerous to spend all of one’s time in the near-sighted pursuit of just one ideal.  With the passage of time comes change.

Lea woke one morning to a strange feeling of fear.  She really didn’t understand the sensation but she was sure she didn’t like it.  Carefully she glanced around her.  Everything seemed unchanged.  The people she could see were scurrying about their daily lives. The sun was in the sky, the wind was quiet but still there.  It had rained over the last few days but that was not unusual and it even made the world seem a little crisper, more alive.  But something was different.

Lea didn’t live in her little aerie alone, she had neighbours.  When she finally deigned to actually acknowledge them, she discovered that they had changed.  Perhaps they had spent too much time in the sun because they were definitely a different colour.  Not an unpleasant shade of red but it did depend on your tastes.  Once again Lea felt superior.  She wasn’t going to change, not her.

There are few inevitabilities in life, death and taxes not withstanding.  The passage of time can never be halted no matter how much we may want it to and with that passage also comes change.  We can rail against it all we want but change happens.

It had been a few weeks since Lea had first noticed the changes in her neighbours and she was horrified to see that they seemed to have accepted it.  It must be because they were old, past their prime.  Not like her.  Although, in the last few weeks she had been feeling a little tired, not her usual perky self.  It must be the weather.  The wind was blowing a little harder and the sun wasn’t nearly as warm as it had been.  Lea was sure that it would all pass and that one day soon everything would be back to normal.  It had to; she wouldn’t accept anything else.

The next day Lea woke feeling cold and sore.   She made the effort to look around her and noticed that all of her neighbours had gone.  She was alone.  The people below were fewer and those she could see were not enjoying the day like they used to, they seemed to be in a hurry.  It is hard to feel sanctimonious when you are alone.

A few days later Lea did not wake up.  The wind was blowing hard and crisp. The sun seemed lower in the sky, almost as if it too was finding it difficult to rise in the morning.  The warm days of summer had come to an end and the cool winds of change had brought the autumn.  With her many neighbours Lea now formed a blanket of leaves beneath her cherished trees.  The season had changed once more.

-the end-

 

 

 

 

I Didn’t Break The 50s!

 

Technically, I was child of the 50s.  Well at least for six months. With wild abandon I guzzled homemade milk and had a bevy of staff to cater to my every need. It was paradise.

In reality, I was a child of the 60s. I do recall watching the moon landing on a black-and-white TV. We only had three stations to watch and you had to get up to change the channel. There were no cell phones or colour TVs.  The Internet hadn’t been invented. I was a kid. I went outside and played. I scraped my knees and probably bloodied my nose a few times. We could breathe the air deeply and not worry about coughing up a lung. Most recollections are idyllic.

But the 60s was also a time of war, poverty, assassinations, racism and sickness. The history books remember the bad stuff. People try not to. It was a time of Family and single incomes. Roles were expected for men and women and children. It was only in those progressive families that young girls were allowed to dream without restrictions. I didn’t know there were restrictions. But then I didn’t know what to dream.

Times were different in the past. There was good and bad. But we evolved. That sounds like a step forward but it too comes with both good and bad. We eradicated some diseases and then created new ones. We got smart and creative in how to deal with illnesses, viruses, so they too evolved.  Now we have superbugs and inefficient medicines. Nowadays we love our children to dream without restrictions but then we stress them out with the requirements to succeed. A double-edged sword.

I am in an unrepentant optimist. I believe we will solve the problems we created. Am I naïve? Perhaps. But I look around this world and I see our children recognizing the problems and standing up. They are shaming the past and working hard towards fixing the future. Will they succeed? I hope so. I doubt I’ll be around to see everything fixed. I believe we are moving in the right direction. But this is not something that can only be on the shoulders of the children. We all need to be involved. Even if it’s only in a small way. The very least we can do is support them.

Our world is a paradise. There is incredible beauty here but we must be prepared to look and to see.  We must also be prepared to defend that paradise. We only have one world and we are all in this together. It isn’t about one group, one culture, one faction. It is all of us!

 

Consequences

 

Teen-age Johnny picked a fight.

Little did he know,

The boy that he knocked down?

Would one day run the show!

 

Tiny Sally bit the hand,

That offered her a treat.

Many years then went by,

Revenge is oh so sweet!

 

The actions of today,

Will one day come around.

And be the cause we did not see,

And wished we’d never found!

 

‘Reflect before you do.’

Our motto I should think

Because before you know it

The future is in sync!

Defying Gravity

In the interest of full disclosure, I am admitting that I’m about to go on a bit of a rant. Some of the things I say may offend a few and for that I apologize. I don’t apologize for what I’m about to impart. I think it’s high time something was said. I am quite sure I’m not the only one who has had these thoughts. It is not said with any malice but plenty of forethought.

I recently watched part of the Emmy awards program. I was surprised at how few shows I had actually seen. And I do watch TV. I think a great many of them were actually on Crave or Netflix or some other alternative to regular television.  I enjoy watching actors that I admire. There was also a touching bit about individuals, in that business, that we have lost. There were a few I didn’t know about.

Award shows have always been a magnet for people to talk about fashion. In particular, the media loves to focus on what the women are wearing. I saw a few men in comment worthy outfits but they are not the focus of my rant.

Women have fought long and hard to be worthy of accolades. There was a time when women were less important than the livestock they cared for. They have worked hard to be seen as equal to men, to be equal to men. We talk about the glass ceiling and how we are consistently breaking it. Women want to be appreciated for what they are capable of, not how they look. Or so I thought.  And then you go to an awards show. And those dresses, in many cases, defy gravity! If you don’t want to be seen as a beautiful object, then why do you dress as one? We don’t talk about men suits and what a beautiful cut they have. We talk about women’s dresses and how good/ awful/ bizarre they might be.

 

“ I can’t move or breathe or walk, But it’s great!”

 

A celebrity actually said that! Women are taped, plucked and wrapped up so they look extraordinary. It is an awful lot of work. But perhaps it is appropriate for a business that is all about the illusion. And the theme of the night seemed to be ‘breasts’.  Specifically: how little can you cover and still be considered decent.  A whole lot of taped died in pursuit of an award that night.

I am quite sure that Monday morning the call once again became ‘women should not be objectified’, unless of course it is by themselves.

 

Rant completed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Blast From The Past

This was written in September 2013.  I think perhaps not much has changed . . .

Oops, my straitjacket is slipping…

When you look up at the stars at night do you feel homesick?  Okay, okay, bad joke.  Do you know once upon a time I laughed uproariously at that joke.  I ran around and told all my preteen friends.  Yes, it’s that old.  And so am I.

As we age our funny bone seems to migrate.  For some people it ends up around the gluteus maximus.  For others humour becomes more cerebral.  I don’t know the equation to what’s funny.  I don’t even know what makes me laugh until I am actually laughing.  When was the last time you laughed so hard there were tears running down your face?  Do you remember the knee slapping, rib tickling, gut wrenching guffaws you used to hear when a group of people got together to watch a comedy film?  I don’t, at least not recently.  The last time I had one of those all-encompassing, falling on the floor cackles was watching an old movie.

The movie was ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’.  I don’t remember the movie.  I don’t even know if it was actually a comedy.  What I do remember is my boyfriend and I beating on the furniture.  We were laughing so hard we were crying.  I remember him falling on the floor and not able to catch his breath.  But I don’t remember the movie.  I remember that there was a series but it appeared to be about teenage angst (and vampire slaying) I wasn’t interested.  I had enough of that when I was a teenager! (The angst not the slaying!) Don’t get me wrong I enjoy comedy.  I’ve been known to crack a smile and even show teeth.  I just haven’t had a really good belly laugh in a very long time.

Laughter is a universal language.  It crosses borders and brings people together.  It can also alienate people and cause others to commit various forms of harm.  Of course that in itself can be funny!  But I digress.  I don’t know of any culture that doesn’t have some form of laughter.  Wouldn’t it be nice if we could laugh more and shoot less?  We spend so much of our time behaving according to the dictates of society that when we let loose it can be epic!  Find the time to laugh.  A really good guffaw exercises the whole body!