so time revisited then

There is a theory that time seems to go more quickly as you get older because when you’re young more experiences are new. Repeated experience embeds itself as instinct and your conscious mind ignores the details, trusting your instinctual self to look after the boring stuff. Hence the phenomenon whereby you get home from your daily commute, slumped in front of disposable TV, and there are whole sections of the journey that you can’t remember. Before you know it, Christmases join together and you’re accelerating towards life’s only inevitability.

The glass-potentially-very-full way to look at this is that there are things you have internalised as instinct, that you no longer have to focus on. Your mind is free to learn new things. I have a mind that looks at things repeatedly and probably learns some stuff very slowly. But once they are there they tend to stay. I had a conversation about that in a pub with my dad once. Genetic predispositions. Some of the things I have to revisit still are social; some are to do with the daily running of my life. But I will get there, and maybe I’ll have a better command of them than people who believe they worked those things out a long time ago and never think about them. Dunno. It’s clear to me that many people believe a constant habit of analysis and reflection to be a form of insanity. OK. Mad it is then.

In the meantime, the next time I revisit time I hope to be able to say that I have used it to build things. They won’t all be finished, but they will be in progress. Somewhere on a unfrequented shore is a wooden bench, treated against the coming lashing winter, a winter that listens in the green room to a worn, buzzing speaker and waits for its cue. At the bottom of the bin about to be replenished by a basically content council contractor is evidence of refreshment shared recently as the afternoon made the sea a sheet of mirror glass and thoughts turned from the salmon jumping at the castle to…