Lately, I have been thinking a great deal about the relativity of time.
A few years back I wrote a post related to this issue and recently I returned to it, re-reading the thoughts of my younger self, wondering whether the same sentiments still occupy my contemplation.
I have realized that although basically my views are still the same, my affection for and my perception of time has certainly shifted.
When I wrote that piece, just a year prior I ended a prodigal and trying period of my life. I felt terribly derelict, as I indeed failed on so many levels in my life and was left drained, disillusioned and feeling very old. Today of course I look back at that time with wiser eyes and a tranquil mind. It no longer feels like a failure, but rather a vital experience that was essential in shaping me into who I am.
I have realized that much of my younger years were spent in the waiting line. For as long as I recall, I always waited for something or someone.
Something to come my way, something to resolve, something to come true, something to at last occur. Someone to finally see me. Want me. To find me.
Months turned into years and time became my enemy. It felt wasted and it moved slowly, lacking in progress, draining my energy. I felt paralyzed and disillusioned as none of what I expected and dreamed about came to pass. A sense of panic kept rising within me constantly, while I wondered whether I simply expected too much or whether I was on the wrong path, one that was leading nowhere.
I guess wisdom came to me with age.
I realized in my maturity that stepping out into the unknown was the key to unlocking the allure of time. To completely give into and surrender to ones feelings, to trust ones instincts and to remain completely honest - with oneself and others - without fear. To never shun away from making changes, however challenging they appear.
To take a true leap of faith.
Good things can indeed come to us even late in the game. Our age certainly does not limit our possibilities nor lower our capabilities.
Within the last eight months I have experienced more than I ever had in the course of several years in my past, even in my youth. I have had the privilege to encounter life's altering events and have felt a plethora of emotions, within a broad spectra; anything from exhilarating happiness to tragic sadness.
Time has been completely redefined in my perception.
An hour has today the potential to bring about incredible progress. The term "What a difference a day makes" has never rang more true in my ears. The realization that life can change so much in a blink of an eye has shifted the way I live.
Today I know that we are the true masterminds of our time.
Despite the fact that we indeed hold very little control over our future, we still have the power to shift the direction of our present.
Time is the greatest gift we have been given and its allure is endless if we only seize each and every day, like it is our last.
I am glad that I stepped out of the waiting line.
I was born under the Tatra Mountains, to a Czech father and a Slovak mother. I grew up in Sweden and lived almost ten years in North Carolina.
More than a decade ago my line of work took me to Denmark, where I live today. My home, which I share with the man that holds my heart, lies in the northerly part of a Danish peninsula, in the proximity of endless, wide and pristine westbound sandy beaches, surrounded by the rough and untamed North Sea.
My writing is defined by reflections on my cosmopolitan past and my intriguing present. Ultimately I try to convey in words and images my personal thoughts and feelings about life itself, with all its magic, natural splendour and the beauty of simple pleasures.