tempus fugit?

 

Time travel is real. We do it constantly, but only towards the future.  We never arrive of course, as it is always now: the continuous present. Which I find rather reassuring. It’s often said that wherever you go, you’re still there. I noticed an information board on the Devon coast path. Where a map should have been, someone had written “You are here”. 

There are those uber-wealthy individuals who try to defeat the inexorable by investing their billions in vain attempts to live forever, little realising that, figuratively, they already do. Or die forever, in news-speak which mangles meanings when someone’s passing is described in the continuous present, as in “Pope dies”. Or more clumsily, “the World’s oldest living person is dead”. 

In a town with limited career opportunities, two friends working in shops both told me of their excruciating boredom. They reminded me of the one time in my working life that I felt the same. I suppose I’ve been fortunate. Working as a junior clerk in the civil service fifty years ago, collating an “agricultural census”, was the only time I recall actively clock-watching, noticing how slowly the hands moved around the face. The last hour before "clocking off" was the most painful. Looking back, I would now relish the opportunity to just slow down and enjoy the long moment..  

I was starting to worry about life's minutiae becoming more challenging with age, until realising their benefits (below). At first, mundane tasks were an increasing burden. It felt a nuisance to have to read the utility meter, put the bins out, book a plumber, tax the car, renew licenses and subscriptions,  or make health appointments. Responsibilities recur with an accelerating frequency. A friend observed that the trouble with retirement is that you never have a day off. I often visit a “heritage property” whose conveniences are up a hill from the car park some distance from the gate. By the time you return along the path, you feel you may need to go again just to be sure. 

Questions of punctuality or tardiness still come into play well after working life. When the clocks change, will there be daylight for my journey, morning or evening, to avoid being dazzled by modern headlights?  At the start and end of “summer time”, even the weather seems to notice, but the news media seems obliged to remind us mere mortals. For me, the changes have happened 140 times so far, so should not be unexpected.

I worry no more about airport check-in schedules, and am unaffected by plans to introduce boarding pass apps. Is there life after smartphones? Deciding that few of my journeys are really necessary, I now prefer “sustainable” travel: staying here. When readying for a trip, my father often said “Don't want anything to happen at this late stage”. A caution against I know not what, but a useful excuse for not doing something else that might interrupt his worry about whatever it was he was preparing for.  

The march of time becomes more evident when filling in one of those on-line log-in forms. Scrolling down the year options takes an increasing number of clicks as your date of birth moves relentlessly towards the bottom of the list, and then, symbolically, off-screen entirely. At the start of 2025, 1955 suddenly jumped a whole page away, in intimation of mortality. 

If all this seems curmudgeonly, I’m in truth wryly amused and relieved to read that these irritations can actually be beneficial. They represent life-enhancing stressors. A mindful approach to routine can slow down the perceived passage of time, counter-balancing its overall acceleration across the lifespan. But even better to add variety to the mix, to stretch it further.  

So many seem in a hurry, particularly on the road. Those anxious tail-gaters inspire ideas for some friendly bumper stickers. While I’m tempted to write “Beware dodgy whiplash claims; back off”, my preferred options are: “Why the rush? You’ll be dead soon enough.” or, more cryptically, “Better late than late”. Given sufficient interest I could start a production run. If I have enough time. Apply here to subscribe to the crowd-funding.

Must go. I have to put the bins out.

LINKS

Confucius say what?! | Wherever you go, there you are.

Ode: Intimations of Immortality - Wikipedia

Why everyday stress could be the key to a healthy old age | Ageing | The Guardian

How much faster do we age when we get older?

curriculum vitae