Where’d the time go?
I’m surprised to realize a year has gone by since the start of the pandemic. It went quickly for me; I know not everyone feels the same way.
I want to experience, savour, and remember my life, in all its complexity. It’s not comfortable when life seems to slip right through my fingers, like grains of sand in the proverbial hourglass that seems to have a thickening waistline.
Why does it even matter?
Our perception of time’s passage is important because it greatly influences how we evaluate our lives, and affects how meaningful we perceive our lives have been, according to psychologist Mark Landau of the University of Kansas.
At the end of my days, I want to be satisfied with my life.
Researchers reveal it’s normal to experience time flying by as we age.
But, just because it’s normal, doesn’t mean we have to be victim to the sense of time melting away. Research reveals there’re a number of factors at play affecting our perception of time.
It turns out, one of my theories about our experience of time proves true. One year to 10-year-olds is one-tenth of their life, while it’s only two percent of a 60-year-old’s life.
The older we get, the lower the percentage drops, as the relative time is reduced.
Also at play is the neural circuitry of our brains. As adults the circuitry is established, while in children it’s still developing.
This affects how children perceive the passage of time, according to neuroscientist, Patricia Costello, PhD., with time seeming to pass more slowly for kids.
Although these factors affecting our perception of time are unchangeable, there are some things we can do to savour and experience life more fully, thus deepening our sense of satisfaction with our lives.
As adults, we tend to “chunk” our experiences into broader categories, but children remember many more small, vivid details, because so much is new to them.
According to Landau, the “chunking” tendency of the adult mind causes us to perceive less has happened, thereby affecting our perception of time.
Our grandson, Roman, taught me this as he recalls our first camping-trip. He remembers the small, but wonderful details from being picked up, stopping for ice-cream and playing on a tractor.
He remembers details of what happened when we arrived at the campground, and everything in between. To me, we had a camping trip; this is a chunked memory for me.
I like Roman’s version much better than mine, and have taken the cue to start noticing the details of my life’s experiences, the good and the challenging.
Instead of “chunking’ and having my brain go off-line I am choosing to notice and remember the wonderful details of our trip.
It’s said we only truly experience something once, as a child; after that we’re going off of memory. I don’t want to live my life from the virtual reality of a memory. I want to drink it all in.
Increasingly, we’re living within a virtual world and not fully present to life. We are often so absorbed in the virtual reality of the past and present, or the one provided on our devices, we fail to take in what’s really happening, moment-to-moment.
I’m grateful for my mindfulness practice of being in the present moment. It’s made life so much richer and has helped me stop chunking time.
Being in nature slows our sense of time, according to researchers at Carleton University. I’ve started noticing more details with curiosity. A simple walk becomes a pleasurable memory, when we engage our senses, and actually see, hear, smell, and feel all of the sensory input.
The constraints of the past year have caused me to think out of the box, to try new experiences, and get creative with my time. Mindfulness has taught me to take in the details and notice life in all of its expressions.
With the rebirth of spring, it’s a wonderful time to awaken from the virtual reality of our minds, and experience the fullness life has to offer, in all of its rich details.
Instead of chunking see how much detail you can drink in.
This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.