Time Keeps on Ticking, Ticking, Ticking

I collect clocks. And I know what you're thinking: how the heck am I so cool? Well, I'll let you know my secrets at some other time. But anyway, I am forever hung up on clocks, forever fixated on the fanciful world that exists within a unique, classic, weird, and timeless clock. My wall is literally plastered with them, and I have come to find a great deal of solace in the midst of their monotonous drones and tickings. A click here, a pendulum swing there, a steady tap-tap of a second hand in its perpetual effort to play metronome. And it all got me thinking about time. And how overrated time is. It runs our lives, and while I totally understand that time and punctuality and all that jazz are necessities for order and business and such, far too much power has been bestowed upon time. Essentially, we are consistently and most likely unintentionally giving time a big head, making time feel like a big shot. And I'm not a fan of this at all.

Now, when I've collected enough clocks, I hope to be able to hang them all up together on some monstrous wall and set each one of them to a different time zone. At first, I had no real reason behind this idea other than, "Wow, that would be really neat and different and exciting." And while this is still a part of my decision to continue to expand and diversify my clock collection, the actual reasoning has managed to deepen and mature slightly along the way. You see, I like this idea of having clocks set to all different time zones because it's my way of laughing at time and kind of insulting its power. I love the irony of the whole concept, that with the onslaught of more and more times, time's grasp can actually be loosened and altogether weakened. Because I am able to see that time isn't the end-all, be-all. I'm able to see that time is but a number, and it's merely relative. It's not some universal, binding authority. It varies; it's fickle. So why on earth would I let something as untrustworthy and self-absorbed as time run my life? I cannot even begin to feign an answer.

And while I'm on this subject of time, I might as well just run with it. Twice in this past week, I've been reminded that the future is indeed just the future, and an unquenchable desire to be anywhere but in the now, surprisingly, actually takes some of the beauty out of the now. So yes; I get that the future is an exciting place to be, a storehouse of promise and expectations and allure like none other. But don't lose sight of the now. Because that's what happens when we rely too heavily on time. We are on an arbitrary journey toward the day when the stress of time will subside. But the sad truth is that this day will never come here on earth. So, sometimes, it's okay to let time just be a number. To rest steady in the moment. To be able to utter the paradox of the century: "I can't wait 'til right now."