The concept of time, how we perceive it, and what we can do with what is given us.
The day before I started writing this, someone talked about “killing time”, and was then asked by someone else what that actually means.
This set off a train of thought… and like trains of thought tend to do, I feel like a passenger. I have no idea where this will go, but I’ll try to document what I see along the way.
In language, we often talk about time as if it is something that is ours, and we can deal with it as we please. We can kill it, we can spend it (as if it is a commodity), we can “pass” it, we can use it as a currency to be able to do stuff (to have time, or to not have time, for something or someone).
I don’t think that’s how it works. In physics, time (the way we think of it) does not exist, but once you’re a living, perceiving being, you need an x-axis (time is invariably the x-axis) to plot your perceptions.
Let’s not argue about the fact that we know where our x-axis started, but we have no idea where it will end.
So, how do we perceive time?
I think we perceive not time itself, but the events that take place while time (or at least, our x-axis) runs its course. We need to allot parts of that x-axis to accomplish things (cook a dinner, write a book, get an education). The value of time is simply a function of the value that an accomplishment has for us.
So, we can calculate the value of time?
Nope. I think we all know of days, evenings, or even moments in our life that we value so highly you can’t even express its value. This immediately tells us that the value of time is not a constant. In fact, time doesn’t even play a role in it. It only took one moment, but in that moment, so much happened in your mind.
This aligns with my view that happiness is not a state, but an event. You can’t plan for it, it’ll just jump on you. You had other things on your mind, and suddenly, BOOM: a peak moment and you’re suddenly truly happy.
If I don’t watch out, I will dive down into the metaphysics of Quality here. Let’s not do that or I’ll fill up this server.
What we can plan for is being content. This is done by accomplishing things, and by building up a state in which you can be fairly sure you can sustain being content. And to a certain extent, that can be calculated.
Does time mean the same for all of us?
Of course it doesn’t.
For a 3 year old toddler, a year means one third of his entire life. For someone who’s dying of cancer and has a few years to live, a year is a lot, even though it might pass quite quickly.
But for someone aged, say, 40, who’s in good health, a year means nothing, because he can’t even see the projected end of his x-axis.
So, what’s “killing time” then?
That’s probably the best example to make you realise you cannot hurt time. All you do when you are killing time is keeping your mind occupied when you are waiting for something else to happen. In other words, you are changing your perception of time passing, not time itself.
How do we “make time” to do something?
It is with great regret that I must inform you that you cannot “make time”. If I could, I’d be stinking filthy rich by now.
Well, theoretically maybe you could, but that would involve travelling at speeds beyond our comprehension. Lacking that facility, all we can do is do that something during the time you had planned to do something else.
You do that because you think that doing the something is of more value to you than doing the something else you had planned. Whether or not that judgement is correct is a completely different kettle of fish, but I refuse to go there.
For instance, when I wrote this sentence, I decided that feeding my cats and enjoying some cool-down time has higher value than finishing this. So I’ll just put this online and work further on it later.
… which is now.
The effect of the “richness” of a memory on our perception of time
So, I read a bit on the subject.
In this article on Cognition Today, the author argues that, the richer the memory you have of a certain event, the longer your brain thinks that event lasted.
That seems to make sense. In my memory, the summer of 1983 lasted forever. It was largely dominated by me being in love with a girl I felt was way out of my league, and her actually reciprocating! There are so many memories of that summer… and indeed, in my mind that summer lasted forever.
Here’s the funny bit: I’m sure that, back then, I felt that time (even though we did manage to seemingly stop the clock for a while) was passing way too fast, but now, in my memory, it seems as if it lasted forever.
Before that, I went on my first vacation alone… on a motorcycle, to the Ardennes. There was one particular moment that I will never forget. It cannot have lasted more than a few seconds: I was on my way into the Ardennes from Liège, and as I came on top of one of the first hills, I saw the road (it was sand-coloured) stretching out in front of me, into a valley, with more hills at the horizon.
I grew up in the west of The Netherlands, and I’ve loved hills and mountains for as long as I can remember. And there it was: this landscape stretched out in front of me, and it felt like it was mine to explore, and I did not have to take anyone’s wishes into account! I will never forget how glorious I felt that moment, and how many thoughts jumped up and down inside my head out of sheer exaltation. It felt like it lasted a day!
This reinforces my thinking that we do not perceive time itself — we merely perceive what happens during that time.
So, how come that, when we’re having the time of our lives, time seems to pass too swiftly, and yet, in our memory, it seems to have lasted so long?
This is apparently due to the fact that we first need to develop and store the memory before we can examine it. As Cognition Today puts it:
Similarly, for good times, you develop rich memories that have a proportionally high “felt” time. But while going through that day, your brain is occupied processing the moment and not actively letting you “inspect” its memory. That is something you can do much later – after the day has passed. So until the memory forms, your attention doesn’t get a time stamp.
Linear versus cyclical time perception
Linear time perception is how we look at our own life. We have a past, which we stored in our memory, and we have a future, which, if anything, is a realm of possibilities.
Cyclical time perception is how we look at live beyond our own existence. When we look at the seasons, that’s an example of cyclical time perception. On a longer scale, when we contemplate the cycle of life (which is not uncommon for grandparents), that’s another example of cyclical time perception, in which our own life is merely one of the cycles.
At the risk of the reader calling me an incurable romantic (they’d be right), when it comes to love, our perception is of course entirely linear.
Back in 1983, I was silly enough to say (yes, to that girl I mentioned earlier) “I’ll love you forever”. The funny thing is, when I think about her today, that’s still true. Would I even consider getting back with her? No friggin’ way. I don’t trust her. But I still love her.
Time is funny that way. All people (countable on two hands) to whom I’ve said “I love you” I still love, and I know now that I’ll do so until the day I die. Even though one of them passed away 31 years ago, and another one in 2008.
For all practical purposes, that’s forever.
Are you done already?
Eeh, no, but I am for now. Tonight I’m creating a beta version of the update email subscription automation process (see the top menu), so I’ll be a bit offline.
But I will continue to rack my brain over it.