There is a certain sense of rhythm and regularity to human existence that we all come to notice at some point in our lives. The beating of the heart, the breathing in our lungs and the blinking of our eyes are all examples of bodily functions that occur rhythmically, and which are peculiar to each one of us. On a larger scale, we observe similar patterns in nature: changing of seasons, sunrise and sunset… which all occur with a certain sense of regularity.

We have come to understand and even predict each of these events with reasonable amounts of precision. We are able to tell what the duration of a heartbeat is, or how long it takes between sunrise and sunset, or how much time it takes for an average person to complete a respiratory cycle. Even though all these processes are natural, it is only recently that it dawned on me that we are able to understand them so intricately because of a particular machine – the mechanical clock.

It is quite a difficult (albeit interesting) activity to imagine what life would be like in the absence of the clock (or watch, or whatever you use to measure time). They (clocks) are so ubiquitous that we take it for granted that they have always been part of the fabric of human existence.

Well, as it would turn out, the mechanical clock as we know it was actually invented, and, like every piece of technology, it had its effects on humanity. This is one of the ideas Lewis Mumford covers in his book, “Technics and Civilizations”.

According to Mumford, before the invention of the mechanical clock, people used the calendar, as imprecise as it was at the time, to measure time. Even further, they understood time, not by the calendar only, but by the events that filled it. Shepherds measured time from the birth of the lambs, farmers measured time from the day of sowing, or forward to the harvest. Consequently, their view of time, and, by consequence, life, was very different. They had a broader understanding of the scope of time, its breadth, and its span. They understood, and were constantly reminded of the natural progression of events: birth, growth, maturation and decay.

I suspect that with this came an acute understanding of human frailty: our inability to change certain things about nature, and even about our lives. Depending on time for one’s crop to yield, or for one’s animals to mature sure provides perspective on what we can, and cannot change. However, with the invention of the mechanical clock came an important paradigm shift. For the first time in history, time became independent from human activity. It became a “succession of mathematically isolated instants”, which could now be measured and understood. Instead of organic and natural functions shaping our understanding of time, we began to dictate those functions by the abstractions of time created by the clock. We began to eat not when hungry, but when it was time for lunch. We would now sleep not when tired, but when it was time for bed.

We became “time-conscious”, with every aspect of our lives regimented by the ticking clock. Time now became a commodity we could use, and save… just like money. While this shift in attitude brought about tremendous gains in productivity and human achievement, it also came with a certain angst as to how to view time, and even how to live.

“Thanks to the clock tower, the rhythms of daily life were now dictated by a machine. Over time, people conformed to ever more precisely scheduled routines. Where the priority of the calendar-driven civilization was God, the priorities of the clockwork universe would be speed and efficiency. Where calendars led people to think in terms of history, clocks led people to think in terms of productivity. Time was money. Only after the proliferation of the clock did the word ‘speed’ (spelled spede) enter the English vocabulary.” –Douglas Rushkoff, Present Shock

The focus shifted from the long term to the immediate. While we once looked at life from a perspective of wholeness, we now tend to look at ours in terms of moments. While we once celebrated people for what they did and who they became over the entire course of their lives, we now praise only those who have achieved extraordinary feats in small amounts of time. While we once understood the seasonal, cyclical nature of life, we now largely view life as linear… a race against the clock.

There is now a tremendous pressure to rush, to perform and to achieve the most in the shortest possible time. While many things were, for better or for worse, left to follow their natural course, we now feel the intense desire to control time, and at the very least give the impression that we are doing more than our neighbor in less time than they are.

We are confused in our relationship with time. Because we can literally watch time go by, and calculate some “time distance” between our position and our destination, we have lost the ability to wait. We forgot that many good things in life cannot be rushed, and even when they can be, it is better not to. But then, the present moments seem so slow, so ordinary. Just the tick of the clock. Yet vast expenses of time pass by without us noticing. It is cliché to hear a person describe events several years past, and say that they “seem like just yesterday”. What is rarer, on the other hand, is hearing somebody describe some events in the future as “just like tomorrow”.

We are ambivalent: On the one hand, the passing of time is the only way for our dreams to come to fruition. It represents the only way by which we can fully become actors on the world around us, and actually reap the fruits of our labor. On the other hand, the passing of time brings us closer to our end; it reminds us of our mortality and frailty. As we get older, we realize that while we are getting the chance to create our stories and make meaning of our lives, we are also getting the chance to see what it is we became in life, and most importantly, we are drawing closer to the day when we will become food for the worms.

What are we to do then? Well, there is not much we can do. For inasmuch as the clocks we wear on our wrists and carry in our pockets give us the illusion that we can control time, the reality is that we can’t. The only thing we can do is to seize the days, and make them count.

The days are long, but the decades are short.