At the Speed of Life

If man’s ability to calculate abstract mathematics and write poetry creates the jobs out of which he distills his skills, then its life’s job to teach us some rather important lessons in regards to this.
Oh god, it’s one of those. I know, bear with me on this. No one likes that-life-long-wisdom-wistful-pedagogy any-more than the next-know-it-all-stringing-words-together-hyphen-addict. But there’s a point to this.
We all have lives outside of the places we work. We have lives outside the dwellings we call home. Sometimes there is intersection of the sets. Our hobbies. One of the things I’ve grown to appreciate over the past year is my ability to criticize my own fascination with the things I choose to call hobbies.  I’m one of those poor, pent-up slobs that has a tendency to take everything in life seriously. (Too seriously.) So I’ve realized it’s good to take a step back and observe Einstein’s relativity in action in regards to life and how I spend my time.
Whether it’s rolling your eyes at the workout routine the previous week (why?!) how many hours you spent playing video games (ugh),  how many pages you read of that book you’ll never have the opportunity to discuss with another human being(clones don’t count, neither do identical twins.), or sighing at how many times you applied that god-awful run on your guitar to classical pieces in C just because humans have a love affair with C major. I think perspective is good. I think our busy lifestyles try and convince us that it’s less important than the sacrifices we make in indulging our interests, which is unfortunate.


If we lack the perspective to understand why we feel passionate and creative about the things that compel us to be human – no, being better people, then what does that say about us? That we’re mice in a box pressing serotonin and dopamine levers out of some reward based aphasia? No, there has to be more to life than that. Perspective gives us that. It’s our time away from the madness of our minds that allows us to clarify our goals, or offer insight into our own atomic clocks.


Our schedules are, for better or worse, relatively predictable in our society. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Our happiness isn’t (or shouldn’t) be predicate on things determined the moment we wake up – or obliterated in a moment of irrational anger at the coworker who spilled milk on our chocolate cake. The beauty of that means that happiness is something completely within our power to attain.
Well, i’m not sure how I got here. I’m not really sure what the speed of light and spilled milk have to do with happiness, but here we are. We’ve slowed down as we’ve approached the constant.


Maybe you’re wondering about something left undone elsewhere you forgot about in the carry-it-forward momentum of life, or why you wasted your time on this silly-old-thing.  Whatever the case, I hope this got you thinking.  Laugh at your hobbies, or that stupid milk container that ruined your cake. Forget why you were angry or took things too seriously.


Our time is predictable, our happiness should not be.

If it’s any consolation, I’m wondering why I wrote this.


~ by nyelome on January 23, 2017.

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