Yesterday we discussed how human beings tend to look at time as though there are moments where it becomes static, often ignoring the fact that the only constant in life is change. There is no static present to which we can refer: it is constantly in motion, constantly bringing about change. And that is the only way this universe could conceivably work: without time, motion, as well as all the fundamental forces, could not exist.
So the only way this universe can operate; yet we humans seem to be in a state of denial about this fundamental fact: time never stops. Those of us who are acutely aware of our mortality understand this particularly well. Still, it seems as though people still try their best to resist the effects of time, to try to hang onto the past as much as possible in order distract from their ever-shrinking future, and looming death.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with studying history and building museums: the past is a fascinating and enlightening topic, and can certainly help guide future actions. And there is also nothing wrong with trying to “seize the day” or make the most of a moment. But people need to realize: the past is gone forever, and any moment, no matter how precious, will always disappear into the past.
“Why are you writing all this shit? That’s obvious, asshole,” you say. That may be so for some people, but not all are willing to look at the hard facts of time. If they were to do so, however, the world could be changed for the better.
Here’s the biggest point, and I’m mainly talking to you rich and well-off people out there, but this applies to everyone in some way. Life should not be about hoarding wealth and collecting crap: it should be about having great experiences and collecting memories, while following the biological imperative.
Memories and procreation are two of nature’s greatest weapons in the War on Time.
Let’s look at procreation, which applies to every organism on the planet. It is because of procreation that life still exists here after hundreds of millions of years since it first appeared, and if we don’t succeed in turning the planet into another Venus because some asshole needs to compensate for something and drive a Hummer, then life will exist here for at least another billion years. Now sure, that duration of time might seem to be extremely long to us, but time is already running out for a planet that has four billion years behind it. Eventually the sun will consume the planet, and it will be as though none of this—the history of the earth—ever happened.
Still, in this world we are given the imperative to pass on our genes. I’m not suggesting that everyone have kids here. Frankly, there’s a lot of you out there who should be neutered. The point here is that there is a natural purpose stamped onto every organism, which has the higher purpose of preserving the ever-evolving ecosystem for as long as the earth will support it.
It follows that the best way we humans can serve our purpose and fight against time would be to do everything it takes to ensure the survival of the next generation, while preparing them to do the same for the generation after that, and so on. Of course that guarantees nothing: at any time a meteorite could strike the planet and wipe out 99 percent of all life. Consider the dinosaurs. They lived and evolved on this planet for hundreds of millions of years, a stint that makes our brief time on the planet seem like a blink of an eye. Then one day, despite hundreds of millions of years of history behind them, they were all but gone (except for the birds, of course). That’s the nature of time: here today, gone tomorrow.
That leads me to nature’s other weapon against time, one that applies especially to humans (and many other animals I am sure, including whales, dolphins, apes and so on): event experience and memory. Humans tend to live in their memories. We can see this in our love for relating experiences; we are story-tellers. Most people get a great deal of pleasure from either telling or hearing a good story. Why? Because it is our sense experiences and memories of sense experience that make up our personalities, and define the “story” of our lives.
The ultimate point, then, is as follows: the world would be much better off—much more peaceful—if people were more concerned with hoarding memories than hoarding wealth. Wealth can be useful, of course, because it allows people access to more opportunities for rich sensory experiences, and the creation of “happy” memories. But many of the rich seem far more concerned with the acquisition of wealth itself, than the experience that wealth can bring them. And how many wars are started by those seeking wealth (and power, of course)? The answer is all of them.
Simply put, that big mansion might seem like it will be there forever, along with all your precious cars and shiny metals, but material goods could disappear at any time. Money, of course, is always in a state of flux. One could be rich today, but very easily be poor tomorrow.
Indeed, material possessions come and go, but memories stay with us for as long as the brain stays healthy—most often to the end of our lives. Thus the world would be a much better place if people were to strive to “enjoy the ride of life” rather than collecting as much crap as possible. The adage, “you can’t take it with you,” should not be so readily ignored. If more people realized that life is a ride, with a finite duration in time, perhaps they would concern themselves more with living in balance with the world (as the Native tribes around the world have done for centuries). Doing so would aid nature’s primary weapon against time—the procreation and endurance of the ecosystem. If society were to develop so that experiences and stories were treasured more than money, and thus governments and individuals were to stop supporting the rich at the expense of the poor a balanced, peaceful world would likely follow.
The sad thing is, not matter what, we are all going to run out of time. Civilization, animals, the planet itself, the solar system, the galaxy, and the universe will all be claimed by time one day, and it will be as though none of this ever happened. But while we still seem to exist in this dream that is life, let us consider every day what we would rather have with us on our deathbeds: a host of happy memories and a loving family? Or a big pile of gold coins? As your last breath approached, what do you really think would comfort you more? If you chose happy memories and a loving family, then let us all work together to change the priorities of our fellow human beings, before we run out of time. If you chose a pile of gold coins, then you must be a Republican.
