Sub Terra Vita: Chronicle #10: On Time

Sub Terra Vita

By Tim Krenz

July 26, 2015

Chronicle #10: On Time

Of all things present in our lives, we might understand least the concept of “time.” Science, as Albert Einstein theorized, gives us a constant, though arbitrary, measure of it (the “c” in the equation E=mc²), as the speed of light at 186,000 miles per second. But as the science says, it relates to the influence of the gravity of mass. Gravity itself slows time, or bends time toward it. The experiments of the past century show this phenomenon. And still, our physical understanding of time leaves much to discover. More important than the science of time and its influence on existence, other moral, ethical, and personal dilemmas and implications of time weigh heavily, as though the gravity of reality drags us down, or up, to a different level of awareness.

Morally, all relations between individuals become trades or exchanges of time. Does a person better or damage themselves by doing something and spending time with others, given the limited time our biology allows us each day? What does a person gain or lose in intrinsic value of their reality by how they spend their time? Do we spend our day wisely or not by: writing, in study, in reverence, working, loafing, on meals, on grooming, in the arts, gardening, visiting, and the functions of biology (eating, sleeping, creating, etc.). As a moral imperative, incarcerated into the spiritual and thinking vessels of our bodies, we must spend so much time on the necessary things required for the maintenance of our personal condition and wellness. Morally, beyond sustenance and regeneration, our time on earth as thinking and spiritual humans demand it.

Ethically, time measures and accounts for what we learn about ourselves and our relations with others. The way we interact, and often through age and experience, determines through the meanness of time's brutal facts, how we can live our lives better. People can dwell on the time wasted, time spent or not spent doing something, with others, which we perceive as the “using wisely or the wasting of our time,” in any measurement of time conceivable.

In another context, time means in the ethical realm absolutely nothing, as the “c” in the speed of light arrives physically, but arbitrarily, as only a description of something incomprehensible. Time on earth, in a large way, comes as a gift of the god in which we believe, or on the chalk board of Einstein. Either way, we have no concept or ability of permanent time. In the course of time, we can give ourselves everything in our power to give: any material, encouragement, or assistance; and even our ultimate offering, our love. But as the general Napoleon said to his officers:, Ask me for anything you need or want, except don't ask me for time. I can never get that back! Yet, in the ethical realm of living and our code of conduct, lessons and character only come with our growth over time. If lucky, we humans learn that we need to love and have empathy for others. If not, we have truly wasted our time on earth.

In personal terms, time becomes the capstone of nature, the healing of wounds and the expansion of reality and indeed of the universe itself. One of the “apostles,” George Harrison, wrote in a song, “All things must pass.” Time passes, and we really do not understand much about it beyond the relative position of our individual place in the universe. As in the science, time offers our biology a relationship to other people, places, things, and ideas. When time's tyranny of separateness and distance between humanity closes the gap, someday, we can find those peaceful, perfect moments of reflection and realize, that only in our hearts and at that instant, can time stand still.