Monday, December 31, 2012

Riding Along (& Looking Back)


It's the last day of the year already. And to think my last post here was almost a year ago, when 2012 was still in all its freshness. As I sit here writing this post, my immediate self feels like nothing much has really happened throughout the year. Everything seems to be very much like how it was. But "how it was" depends on the time reference my immediate self is making, and that time reference is usually one that is close to now - maybe yesterday, a week ago, a month ago. For obvious reasons, if that's the time reference I'm making, nothing would seem to have changed much, no major transformation or life-changing experience would be perceived to have happened. So I tweak my view a little, almost as if I'm viewing my year as a timeline of small blocks of events from a further looking point - and I suddenly see so much. From watching friends leave and having them back, to knowing new people and forming friendships with them. From humble attempts at producing creative work to an absolutely fulfilling period delving into research, and other little events throughout the year, which all lead to the here and now.

The thing is, seeing life in such a way - in an almost playback kind of way - is not natural for me. I need to actually remind myself that things have happened prior to where and who I am at this moment, and that these things have probably happened quite some time ago to not be present for my immediate and automatic retrieval. Instead, what's natural is to tunnel in on recent events and to perceive the whole year based on that one road in that tunnel, with everything else blurred at the periphery. And I think that's because of how time moves for me (maybe for some others too). Time creates a very slow-moving story plot. So slow that events are so interwoven with each other that they are indistinguishable as single happenings. The closest analogy I can think of is this - different streams, rivers, waterfalls (and other types of water bodies) all ultimately combine to form oceans, which in turn form earth's one massive body of water. Small life events happen in such a fluid way that they all fall along one string of time. Because of the fluidity of events and the interconnectedness between them, I don't feel a sudden switch in how things are in life. Events dissolve into, or sometimes integrate with, other events, and soon enough, my memory immediately recalls only those which fall more recently along the string of time.

While that sounds unfortunate, I mean the contrary. I think this fluidity allows life to not be a drama. I would probably catch on very badly if my life was a drama. Separate scenes in separate episodes which each tell one distinct part of a story plot - probably wouldn't settle very well with my need for a slower pace and a calmer progression of events. So I'm thankful for time. Simply because with it, life flows. And because there is such a flow, because events dissolve into, or integrate with, other events, I get to heal gently from mistakes and hurts, and I get to be transformed slowly as a person. I think that's the ideal way for living. Because then I can really "go with the flow" and "take things one at a time". Time gives me the privilege to do that.

If there is a downside to this "mechanism", however, it may be that I tend to lose sight of some important events, just because it fell earlier along the string of time, a point which my memory does not readily access. But then again, it is precisely because of the way time works that I would find the occasional opportunity to reflect - to watch the playback of my living, to view my very own story. In turn, that becomes a reminder to me about how exciting life actually has been, and how much I've actually picked up along the way - be it lessons, skills, friends, fond or not-so-fond memories. And more often than not, that's what I (and perhaps many of us) need - reminders. For me, reminding myself about past events helps me view life outside of myself. For that moment, I would not be seeing life as my immediate self, rather I would be an audience of my own story's playback. And that's precious because I get a glimpse of how I have chosen to ride along time's string, which is something I'm blind to when perceiving life only as my immediate self. So in a way, time has it all figured out. It enables me to progress through life comfortably and smoothly, AND it gives me the opportunity to look back and kind of write my own "performance appraisal". As I ride along with the fluidity of life into another year, I am thankful for perhaps the only constant thing in this world - Time.

Thinking about the possible events put forth by 2013, I think I'm heading for a very exciting and soul-enriching ride. However, I'm fully aware that the ride would turn out so only if I make the effort for it to be so. If there is anything I've learned about time, it is that prospects are one thing, and reality is another. The only way prospects can be transformed into reality is through volition and determination (and probably through some cosmic help e.g. the magical realm of coincidences). So this I tell myself: I see an exciting ride, and I want to make this ride exciting through better and more appreciative use of time. I'm pretty sure as I ride along that certain worth-remembering events would be shrouded by more recent ones, but I strive to ride in such a way that when I do set myself apart to watch my story's playback, I see a colourful string of time with furry bits jutting out along the line - a beautiful mess. =)

Toasting to the end of 2012 and tapping into 2013!