Where Did The Time Go?

I seem to remember being a kid and thinking that all the old people who told me how fast my life would move were absolutely crazy. Minutes of frolicking in my child-wide imagination would feel more like hours of engaging in endless fun. I don't think this idea that time goes by quickly is new, in fact, I do believe the tune is much overplayed. But no matter how much we acknowledge that our time continuum is so highly accelerated, it does not change our perception or grasp of it. In other words, we can only stand by and let life move at whatever rate it so chooses.

"Where did the time go?" That question has made contact with my ears more times than one could count all the splinters on the floor of a sawmill. It is always used rhetorically. Sometimes to express the amazement of life's pace, or perhaps to express the sorrow of life's regrets. I know that I ask myself this frequently, and I can't help but ponder my own shame.

When we procrastinate, its as if whatever we are holding off on doing seems worthless, until its too late to actually do something about it. Even though the priority shouldn't have changed, the weight of our purposeful tasks becomes burdensome once time begins to run out.

I don't want to stand at the end of this day, this month, this year, or this life and say "Where did the time go?"