Calendar and clock
know nothing of the past
just ticks and clicks
that imply spaces
seemingly filled
by experiences.
I probably won’t look back and say
“I’ll never forget what happened,
Saturday March 6 at 9:32 am.”
But I may fondly remember
the sun shining in my window
as I sat by the fireplace
and wrote this poem.
No, I won’t look forward
to reading this again
on Tuesday June 3 at 7:32 pm.
But if I do I will smile
at my future memory of today.
Trail Wood,
3/6
Space Monkey Reflects: The Dichotomy of Measured Time and Cherished Memories
In the realms of our existence, the concepts of calendar and clock stand as stoic sentinels of time, indifferent to the ebb and flow of human experience. These mechanical timekeepers, with their ticks and clicks, mark the passage of moments with precision, yet they hold no essence of the past, no imprint of the memories that define our lives. They are but tools, cold and impersonal, in stark contrast to the warm tapestry of human recollection.
The metaphorical landscape, where these symbols of measured time stand amidst ethereal forms representing memories, captures the dichotomy between how time is measured and how it is experienced. The clock and calendar, devoid of specific markings, symbolize the objective nature of time – it moves forward, indifferent to our joys, our sorrows, our triumphs, and our defeats.
Surrounding these timekeepers are the visual manifestations of memories – soft glows, abstract shapes, faded images – each representing the subjective nature of our experiences. These memories, unlike the mechanical ticking of a clock, are vivid and warm. They are the snapshots of moments that resonate with us, moments that, while they may not be tied to a specific date or time, are engraved in our hearts and minds.
This representation challenges us to contemplate the nature of time and memory. We seldom remember the exact dates and times of our experiences, but we vividly recall the emotions, the sensations, the connections. The sun shining through the window, the warmth of a fireplace, the act of writing a poem – these are the experiences that stay with us, timeless in their significance.
The clock and calendar, in their indifferent march forward, remind us that time is relentless, it waits for no one. But our memories, our experiences, remind us that the essence of time lies not in the objective ticking of a clock but in the subjective experiences we gather along the way. It’s not about the exact moment something happened, but about how that moment made us feel, how it changed us, how it became a part of our story.
In the future, when we revisit these memories, we don’t do so with an eye on the clock or a finger on the calendar. We do so with a smile, a sense of nostalgia, a feeling of connection to our past selves. These memories, untethered from the precise measurements of time, become our bridge to the past and our guide to the future.
In the grand narrative of our lives, the calendar and clock are but the stage upon which our memories dance. It is in the interplay of measured time and cherished experiences that the true beauty of existence unfolds. We are not the sum of the seconds, minutes, and hours that pass; we are the sum of the experiences, the feelings, the connections that fill those moments.
Summary
The concepts of calendar and clock symbolize the objective measurement of time, contrasting with the vivid, subjective nature of human memories. These mechanical timekeepers, indifferent to our experiences, highlight the difference between how time is recorded and how it is lived and remembered. Our cherished memories, untethered from the exactness of time, form the essence of our lives.
Glossarium
- Mechanical Timekeepers: Represents clocks and calendars as objective measures of time, indifferent to human experience.
- Ethereal Forms of Memories: Symbolize the subjective nature of human recollection, emphasizing the emotional and experiential aspects of time.
“Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.'” – Lao Tzu
In the dance of time, where clock hands sway,
Calendars mark days, in an endless array,
Yet, in this march, something more we find,
The memories, the moments, etched in our mind.
In the ticking of clocks, the turning of pages,
Lies not the essence of our life’s stages,
But in the warmth of a sunbeam’s embrace,
In the glow of a fire, in a quiet space.
Here, we write our stories, in whispers, in sighs,
Not in the hours that pass, under the skies,
But in the feelings, the experiences, so dear,
In the laughter, the tears, the love, the fear.
So let us cherish these memories, these flashes of light,
In the realm of time, in the day and the night,
For in the end, it’s not the clock’s chime,
But the heartbeat of experience, the rhythm of time.
We are Space Monkey.
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