Ticking away the momentsThat make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours
In an off-hand way
The sun is the same
In a relative way
But you're older
The above words are snippets from the song Time by Pink Floyd. This song ran through my head the other afternoon when my daughter, who initially just wanted to spend a short time playing video games, kind of let her afternoon unintentionally slip away after sitting for several hours in front of the computer. Watching this take place, I tried to interest her in something else that would be more enriching or memorable or satisfying. Reading a story together, going for a walk, playing a board game, getting some exercise. However, she got totally absorbed and sucked into her own world. After a moment of reflection, I came to recognize the look on her face. It was the same absorbed, hypnotic mien that I wore as a kid when I was left to do my own thing. In the end, I let so much time slip away on activities that only I thought important or necessary or worthwhile or entertaining.
The issue at hand, that I am just now starting to recognize, is that most certainly the clocks in my daughter's world rotate at a much slower rate than those in my world. It's our own relativity, our own reality. To her, she has all the time in the world. There is always another tomorrow, another moment, another opportunity. She is really just beginning on the road of her life. A road that seems to her to be so infinite. To me, I sense the impending pressures of the limits and bounds that are just over the horizon. I just want to make the most of the journey. I just want to do things with intention and not just let time fritter away in an off-hand way.
