Impermanence and the Art of Taking Time

 

(Personal photo, Saba Beach, Bali, Indonesia)

“What took you so long just to answer that question?”
“Can you speed up? You need to make the decision now.”
“Hurry up, you’re gonna miss the train!”
“Did you calculate and consider it already? Now, decide.”
“Everybody’s doing it; why won’t you?”

I believe that for each and every one of us, those questions and pushes come up in our lives more than three or fifteen times. Especially when we’re living in an environment that demands constant, fast-paced decisions, or dealing with peer pressure that we finally cannot avoid. They (the environment, society, people, or whatever you wanna call it) and even ourselves tend not to give us what we need the most, and definitely the ultimate thing that doesn’t compromise at all: TIME.

I called him “The Ocean Rider” when he introduced me to The Frames, an Irish rock band that had one of their songs featured on the TV series House. He said, “Everything you think about yourself changes every day; it’s impermanence.” Then he played this song titled “Seven Day Mile” on my Spotify and let me bury my face in his chest, crying so hard until I trembled and choked on my own words, trying to deny whatever he said to me. No one had ever said that to my face out loud. No one ever had the balls—not even my best friends.

“Your will changes every day
It’s a choice you’ve gotta make
I can’t help you if I want to
Down here nothing gets a chance
It’s a threat that’s real enough
We can burn this bridge or stay here”

I was always in a rush. I always believed that I NEEDED to be faster than anyone. I had to build a strong façade and wear armor every single day so no one could ever penetrate my weaknesses. So no one could ever pity me for every bad decision I made then and now. And I ended up thinking that I didn’t deserve anything good in my life. Thinking that I didn’t deserve love or to be loved. Because all I knew were those unhealthy and toxic coping mechanisms. I kept hurting myself without even realizing it. And I’m exhausted. I’m tired of running and wearing the same boring armor or trying to keep building the same façade over and over again.

Every time I get lonely, I remind myself of this saying: “If you wanna go fast, go alone. But if you wanna go far, go together.” I did both and failed. A series of failures started to feel like normal days for me. I still had breakdowns when they happened and cried for an hour or two, but then I learned (again and again) to get up and pick up the pieces by myself, reminding myself that life needs to keep moving forward, bad days or not. I didn’t really give myself TIME to process and re-adjust my vision, even though I needed that so badly. That’s why I got drained and exhausted.

“Well, this might take a while to figure out now

So don’t you rush it

And hold your head up high

Right through the doubt now

’Cause it’s just a matter of time

You’ve been running so fast

It’s the seven-day mile

Has you torn in-between here and running away

Running away”

I always thought it would be so easy to get to know myself better every day, but it turned out it wasn’t. I end up finding bits and pieces of me that I never knew before—new findings that need to be thought through, considered and cared for by the minute in every waking hour. It’s an endless journey as I grow and get older day by day. And this journey is definitely not a sprint nor a seven-day mile run; it’s a marathon. I’m just fucking hoping I know how to keep my stamina and endurance, especially when facing turbulence or steady waves. Because nothing is scarier than steady waves and complacency.

I’m forever grateful to “The Ocean Rider” and The Frames for this bittersweet reminder containing a mind-fuck message about how we need to take time—not be in a rush, not get stuck in motion, or stuck in old beliefs and thoughts about ourselves. Because the only person who can help us is ourselves.

Ubud, 30th November 2024
“Seven Day Mile” – The Frames