Father Time

It always comes that time when you can’t help it but thinking about all the days and      father_time3months passed by: we’re constantly focusing on what we did or didn’t, about how we could’ve done it better, about the consequences of our actions. Or else we think too much about the future reflecting about the changes and improvements we’d like to make.

Some people call this time “resolutions time,” I personally call it “hunting nights”.

The worse hunting night of all usually occurs when you switch your light off and find yourself alone in bed. All the ghosts from your past come and visit you. It’s a pointless battle: tell them to go away and they’ll be back soon with their chest puffed out and stronger than ever.

There’s a clock ticking for all of us: birthdays; work schedules; deadlines; minutes; hours; months and of course, years. We can also find time in a drawer, in a video, in a song, in a person’s eyes. I found some of my time yesterday in a dotted pink box where I keep Polaroid pictures, letters dated 2001, two postcards which I’ve never sent and a love note written by a guy whom I’ll  probably never see again.

I got to think how many people come across our path: some stay in our life, others walk past us in order to tech or learn a lesson and then take a different route. This is not a tragedy, but a matter of learning. The real problem is when pride, fear or defensiveness get in the way and we let the people we care about to walk away from our life. These useless feelings are only a reflection of our ego that feeds itself of anger. It’s like a bended blend sword in the midst of a battle which pierces us instead of the person’s heart that harmed us. Though knowing something is not the same as understanding. And sometimes it’s easy to forgive, but not to forget.

Tick tock..tick tock.. the same clock again.

Time passes, things change. Look outside your window and you’ll realize that nature is the one teaching us that. All has a purpose. We just don’t know it at the time.

So then another thought has crossed my mind: as the sun don’t run late, and nature follows its regular cycle…who invented time? According to author Mitch Albom, long before Egyptian obelisks and the Greek clepsydras, Father Time was banished for centuries to a cave as punishment for inventing the world’s first clock. Father Time is not a myth, he’s very real. He’s got long hair and his beard reaches his knees. He sits in the cave listening to everybody’s plea: more time, more days, more chances.

Suddently I comprehended the truth of what was kept inside that old box: reality is the present, past is history and, as Brian Weiss said, future is only a system of probabilities. We cannot turn back the world’s clock, but every day of the present is for us another chance to make things better.

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5 thoughts on “Father Time

    • I wrote this long time ago..writing while looking outside a window can be very inspiring. Both time and nature are our masters..thanks for commenting Karima! I like your blog!

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