Time

The time we have here on Earth is not measured in minutes. Sure we all carry watches to measure a finite amount of something, but what we are measuring with our watch or our clock isn’t time, it’s distance. We tend to measure the distance between the moment we are born to the time we leave this world in terms of years, months, days, minutes. We talk about how long it’s been since we have seen a friend in words like forever ago. And we tend to talk about being somewhere at a particular instance with the finite term of on the dot.

TIme is not measured in minutes. Time is measured in memories.

Ask anyone at the end of their time and you will hear stories of their life, not numbers of it. They will tell you of the time they went to Europe to war, or the time they walked into the bar and immediately knew she was the one.

Young or old, those with the most memories live the longest life. 

We like to blame time for our problems. We don’t have enough time to do everything. I need two more hours in the day. But lets give you two more hours in your day. Lets give you two more years to your life. What are you going to do? Sit there and just bask in the sun and look at your clock, watching the seconds turn to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to the end? 

Or are you going to take your two years and turn them into a thousand memories?

How many books or movies have you read and seen where the person finds out they have a terminal disease and only “so much time” left? The protagonist sets out to see the world, do the things they have always wanted, eat the meals, stay up late. Dance.

They are fabricating memories, making time.

Time is scary. We stress and worry and complain about not having enough of it, but are we really stressing because we have never learned how to make great memories in the first place? I can give you a year, but at the end of that year, what will you have? Will you have made the best memories, or will you come back and ask for more time because you haven’t learned how to live?

And that is our problem with time. It’s not that we don’t have enough, it’s just we don’t know what to do with the amount we have.

We don’t know if we should binge watch a tv show, or make memories with our kids. How many people have watched hours upon hours of documentaries about a man and his tigers,  when they have a camera on their phone and have yet to make a documentary of their kids?

If the most important thing you watch is made by another person, you are living in their time, not yours.

Have you heard the old statement that people on their deathbed have wished they wouldn’t have spent so much time at work? Do you really think they mean they wish they had more memories that make them smile? Memories that make them cry? Experiences that have made them a better person? 

If time is kept in moments of memories, then life is a museum. And you are the artist tasked to fill the museum with wonderful pieces of art that you create. You are the brush, the places you go are your canvas. People are the paint.

You ready to paint today?

We talk about being in quarantine now, we aren’t allowed to travel to the exotic places in the world we are told will make us better. We are told that we have to go to Napa Valley for the wine, we are told that Italy will help you find your passion. We are told, by other people, how to paint our own memories.

But are you happy to be at home with your kids? Aren’t you seeing a different side of things now, in your own backyard that have always been there?

The most important and priceless piece of art that will hang in your museum is waiting to be painted on the canvas that is right inside your house right now, with the paint that has always been at your disposal. 

Take the time to realize that you don’t have to travel the world to make memories. Take the time to understand that the memories we create now will be the lens our kids will see the world. One day will they look back at the paintings they created of this moment of their life and see fear? Or will they sit on the bench in front of their favorite painting and stare at it, feeling the love and joy they felt while it was being made. Be the radiant red they use to paint their masterpiece, and help them make their canvas big.

Give them that memory, give them that time.