Is time moving faster — or are we?
How many times have you found yourself saying: “I don’t have enough time?”
As a yoga teacher I’m in the habit of encouraging students to breathe deeply, slow down and create space. This, however, appears to be at odds with an increasingly accelerated lifestyle; a curious jumblebag of emotional expectations of how/who/what we should spend our time on set to the relentless beat of escalating technological change — curiously labelled as “time savers”.
Even the frequency between technological waves is decreasing so they’re breaking over us more often dumping gadgets, gizmos and widgets, all impatient to be the “—est”, the next Gee Whiz, while we push harder on our own personal accelerators to catch up, perpetuating the cycle.
So, how much change can we cope with?
Imagine being whisked fifty years into the future. Not only that but what if technology had continued to escalate so that while only fifty years may have passed on the sundial, new wave tech had continued to advance exponentially so that the equivalent of hundreds of developmental years had elapsed?
This is the challenge I set for my protagonist in the second book of the Helix Prophecy, The Emerald Tablets, where Callum discovers that time has become an even more valuable commodity.
In The Emerald Tablets time can be traded, transferred from one body to another, bent and manipulated. Time becomes a magical extensor of pleasure, for those with the capacity to pay, so that multiple lifetimes, lifestyles and choices can all be pursued.
Like most “what if…?” questions that authors ask the projected outcome is firmly rooted in today’s experience.
Can we possibly break this cycle and begin to maximise our enjoyment? For despite all the technology and myths surrounding time scarcity many of us use an inordinate proportion of it trudging through the mud of an unchangeable past, or projecting worry into a possible future instead of being fully aware of the only space that is actually alive for us— the right now. What if we could be fully present through all of our senses for the next second and the next? What if we could be totally aware of what each breath feels like as it flows through us and in doing so allow space to arise?
Perhaps then we may realise that it is our choice how hard our foot is pressing down on the accelerator. Now — that would be magic.