It's about time

Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘If’ contains the memorable line “If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run.”  You might imagine that the image would appeal to a near-obsessive amateur distance runner such as myself, but instead it exhausts me. It suggests that the authentic life has meaning from being filled with activity and intensity. I’m reminded of the prevalence of the ‘bucket list’, and titles such as “1000 places to see before you die” – the questionable assumption that I will improve my life if I pack in as many experiences as possible. Yet the quote does still resonate with my experiences of grief over the past six years.

After Jen’s diagnosis in September 2008, we strove to make the best use of whatever time was given to the four of us, in between the physical and emotional impacts of the cancer and its treatment. Mostly we tried to be together as much as we could, within the constraints of my work, to take opportunities to get away within the gaps of the chemo cycle and to avoid wasting energy on the small irritants of life. I’m thankful now for the emotional quality of that time together.

In the aftermath of Jen’s death, there was an overwhelming sense of the fragility of life, of each new day being precious in itself. I promised myself that I wouldn’t take time for granted, especially time with my children.  I continue to value that realization even as I slide back into the complacency of routine, for the truth is that people we care about can die suddenly and unexpectedly. But one of the lasting distortions of that grief was an impatience with time, a desire to accelerate the future rather than let it happen, and this sometimes led me into poor decisions, especially in relationships.

The film ‘About time’ concerns a family where the males have the ability to travel  in time back to their past. It begins as a romantic comedy, in which Tim, the lead male character, uses this ability to correct the most embarrassing failures of his romantic encounters. Eventually it becomes clear that Tim’s father (played by Bill Nighy), knowing that he later develops cancer, has chosen to go back in time and retire in his fifties, so as to be able to spend more time with his two children. Towards the end we see Tim using his temporal ability to re-experience each day, but live it better, to care more for people and savour the beauty of events. His final resolution is not to travel at all in time, but to live that way the first time around. 

My first response after the end of the film was to feel again that desire for intensity, to fill the unforgiving minute, to live as though tomorrow might not come. However living intentionally does not have to mean living with continual intensity.  There’s  a danger in snatching at opportunities, rather than allowing time for things to develop. Succinctly, the message is: relax and appreciate. More deeply, as a Christian I don’t have to grasp at every chance, for there’s more than this life to consider, and nothing that’s good will ultimately be lost.  To quote Emily Dickinson “This world is not conclusion, another stands beyond, invisible as music but positive as sound”.