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About Time #2



Today is about time - where it comes from, how it's measured, what it does for you, what it doesn't. And a non sequitur - the letter "G" (for those Sesame Street enthusiasts). I've reflected on time in the past, it's a subject worth ongoing reflection (as time goes by...).

About Time - it's also the name of a movie that we watched on Sunday that provoked some further reflection. The premise is simple and interestingly explored - what and how would you go about living if you inherited the gift of time travel from your father? Bill Nighy, one of my favorite actors, is brilliant (as usual). Time, it seems, is all we have, and getting it back - "do-overs" as it were - holds an intriguing fancy. Except there is a limiting condition to this time travel - you cannot go back beyond a descendant because the conditions that produced that descendant change. So if you loved your child and went back before she was born (as happened in the film), you may end up back with a boy or some other offspring that occurred from that magical mix of time, place, circumstance, and genetics. 

In the end, the premise is to enjoy the moment, seize it, and make it memorable in its own minute way. Because then you don't have to go back again and relive that time to fix an errant situation or harvest the moment for all that it's worth. 

We lose time constantly, either through natural passing or contrived legislation (here and here). Strangely, it's not measured the same - by you, by me, by geography, by history. But it is always passing, always losing itself to the moments that continue without cease. Ultimately, we have a choice as to how we measure time and how we lose it, the manner in which it goes away. It's a powerful notion to think that we can choose what we do about time before it's gone.

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