"The way time speeds up"

Like a brain in a jar, a woman of a certain age is free to blog at will.

"One of the most disturbing things about aging -- hell, a contender for the creepiest, crappiest thing about it -- is the way time speeds up," writes the ever-young Amba of AmbivaBlog in "Time's Hurtling Hummer Hurrying Near":

My father told me about this some years back, and I didn't believe him . . .  I thought that the speeding-up of time was a reproof to your lifestyle. It must be the result of boredom, or habit -- of not getting immersed in things because they appeared too superficially familiar, so that your mind took a look and went, "Been there, done that," and you began to gloss over more and more, and so the slippery surface of the world went by without friction, faster and faster. I thought that by some mental discipline or renewed involvement -- paying attention, meditating, exercising creativity, learning something new, falling in love -- you could slow the wheel, restore the youthful surprise, the detail of the world that made young time so slow and dense. This seemed plausible because when I was in my forties, I could still slow time almost to a stop just by writing.

Unfortunately, no. There's much more to it than that, and I can't figure out what it is.

It is the beginning of wisdom, perhaps? As we wrote in Amba's comments, with apologies to Andrew Marvel:

And yonder all before us lye   
Highways of vast Eternity . . .

Let us roll all our Strength, and all   
Our sweetness, up into one Blog . . .

Thus, though we cannot make our Sun
Stand still, yet we will make him post.

Amba continues:

One thing it feels like, though, is a much reduced sense of one's own importance. Young life is packed and dense because you're in nature's spotlight and the choices you make really are momentous for the future of the world -- notably, whose genes you will combine yours with, what new people you will create, and what you may contribute to science or literature or politics on the macro scale, or to auto maintenance, fine carpentry, or education in your community on the micro scale. All that lies ahead, and the end is not in sight. Not until you get "over the hill," "past your peak" -- how literally true those metaphors are! Even to the fact that the distance up and down is about the same, yet the climb is slow, with plenty of time to look at the tiniest wildflowers and lichen, while the tumble down the other side is breathlessly fast.

The importance of being noticed is where it's at, of course. but even past her physical peak -- we would never! -- a woman is still free to blog at will.

Comments

[enrevanche]

I think the "time speeding up" effect is quite easily explained: as you age, each day, week, month and year represent a steadily decreasing percentage of the time you've been on the planet.

When I was six years old, summers seemed to last an absolute eternity. That's not terribly unusual when you think about it - three months is a relatively long time for somebody who's been alive for only about seventy months.

The other factor, I think, is that time seems to pass more quickly when you're working hard and have more demands on your time than you can fill. As I slide into early middle age, I definitely find myself in that position.

[Simply Coll]

How true, how true.. the days, weeks, months tend to start flying by.. even the usually long winter months are gone in a flash. As I find myself on the downward slope I often try to catch my breath and capture the moment before it too is lost.
Youth is endless in its ignorance (which is bliss) With age comes the knowledge (although often still suppressed) that our living time is limited. Awareness gives each day and every moment an increased value. The harder we try to hold on.. the faster they are pulled from our grasp.