Time passes, this is not news to you. Every day, the car gets a new dent, the plant overflows the pot, the neighbor's beagle puppy grows into her ears.
All these little things remind us that we are aging, time is moving forward and the river of our days is unstoppable. Recently, I've been listening to a few podcasts that touch on language and linguistics and mythology. These recordings have played in my ears as I've walked my dogs, weeded my garden and strung my beads.
Occasionally, I'll try some fiction (most recently, Gone Girl) but it never sticks. Back to the podcasts.
This recent podcast mentioned that the Old Norse/Scandinavians had a different view of time than we do. It was not, to them, that flowing river, that timeline, that link of days one after the other. Instead, it was a series of unconnected moments, each it's own experience, but not lined up in a specific way. In our conception of time, the past can inform the future, but (unless you drive a Tardis) the future cannot inform the past. In the unconnected moment time, what I am doing today can affect how I do something as a child. While I don't agree with this view, because, well, physics, I do love it. I love the idea that an action I take now could fill an empty spot that would exist in the past. That my hand touching the wood trim of my 100+ year old home could be affecting the way that doorframe was experienced in a long-ago September afternoon.
On these September afternoons, I am touching my door frame in the 2016 moment. The fingerprints I wipe off are growing higher each year. My river is flowing forward and the owners of those fingers, like beagle puppies, are getting taller every day. I cannot anymore stop the move forward than I can reach into the past and say, for pete's sake, wash your hands, although I like that idea.
My podcast playlist (this week) includes:
Myths and Legends
Words for Granted
The World In Words
Have you read/listened to Gone Girl? Should I stick with it? Let me know in the comments.