Learning What Time Means, Essay Example

I mentally return to one hour long ago. It was by no means a traumatic or life-changing event, as other people tend to judge these things. It was, in fact, as tame and uneventful an experience as anything with important repercussions can be. Nonetheless, it revealed to me then, as it does when I recall it, how the most staggering internal changes can occur in the most peaceful times. A person’s entire life can be changed, but there are no witnesses, no external reactions, and no “fireworks.” Still, that hour when I understood what time means changed everything for me.

I was about nine years old at the time. It was early in the evening and I was having a bath, apparently deemed responsible enough to do so on my own. It strikes me that this environment alone must have enhanced what was to come there. in my house, solitude was an unusual thing. I enjoyed the privacy and quiet, even as I wondered at the strangeness of it. I know I was thinking of nothing in particular. My knees now and then made islands in the vast ocean of the bathwater, or at least my childish imagination created this. At the same time, I was feeling too lazy to give into imagination. The water was cloudy with soap, looking like diluted milk, and the heat of it had long since cooled to a pleasing room temperature. I remember staring, fascinated, at my wrinkled fingertips. As quiet as it was, I was aware of sounds of the family below me in the house. Everything was so muffled, however, that they mas as well have been in another world. I can remember no single time when I felt so completely alone, and isolated even from my own life as a child. I believe this is why I stayed so in that tub, long after bath time was over. I am glad I did.

Just as I was mindlessly gazing at the bath tiles with half-shut eyes, I suddenly understood how to tell time. It was just that quick and that effortless, and it was a stunning revelation. For some time, I had been aware that the other kids in my class were already possessed of this ability, although I also believed that some of them, like myself, were “faking it.” Faking it was actually easy. Digital time places no demands on comprehension. The numbers are there to be followed, and knowing my numbers translated to a working understanding of time. It has no meaning because it does the work for you. I still felt cheated, or lost. I had the sense that I was missing something, even if I could certainly abide by the rules of time. That the missing knowledge did not interfere with my school or my life, in fact, actually made it worse. I had the feeling that, unless this thing I could not identify was revealed to me soon, I might go through life at a frightening disadvantage to the rest of the world. I knew it was “time” that was eluding me, as I also knew that most children are able to tell time around the age of six (Rosdahl, Kowalski 105). Somehow, I was not like other children, and I was afraid.

In that hour, all of this changed. I remember genuinely feeling my eyes grow large, staring at nothing as the concept of time came me. I saw in my mind the face of a clock. It had real meaning, like a foreign language I could suddenly read. In the space of just a moment, the simple system of timekeeping opened up to me. It made sense in a way that added sense to digital time, too, because the clock face now showed me day and night. This clock in my mind took on a beautiful image to me.

It was also a key to freedom. I stepped out of the tub eager o share this new insight with my parents. Part of me could not wait to spread this news. At the same time, I had already changed. More exactly, I wanted the luxury of enjoying the burst of confidence in myself this knowledge provided. On a very basic level, I had been living with a consistent, if hidden, sense of being inadequate. I could not do something other children my age could do and, even as I excelled in other areas, the awareness of this drawback never left me. It was gone, and I was normal. I stepped out of the tub and actually saw myself as a young person ready to move into adulthood. Empowered now, I was not arrogant. Instead, the feeling overtaking me was immeasurable relief, with a substantial helping of confidence. I dried, dressed, and eventually hurried to share my victory. I recall being disappointed. My family’s reaction was barely evident.

This milestone, so passive and quiet, stays with me always because I came to appreciate what was so critical about it. Simply, in that tub, I was not trying. At school, at the dinner table, out with friends or in front of the television, I would often try to solve the mystery of how time is kept. I always failed because I was approaching it incorrectly. In my defense, I had no experience in how to comprehend concepts, or none of which I was then aware. Only by “shutting down” completely, then, could I come to understand. In a sense, I did not learn how to tell time. Instead, it came to me, and only when I could be receptive to it.

This “event” has remained a conscious reminder to me of how what may seem impossible can prove to be easy. More than that, the understanding of time affected my developing sense of myself in an enormous way. I was at an age where one vulnerability could translate to a lifetime of self-doubt and insecurity. This was not a conscious concern, but it was definitely there before time became clear to me, and the resolving of it adds further dimension to that evening of my childhood. Since then, far more dramatic events have taken place in my life. I am quite sure there will be more to come. It is nonetheless hard for me to conceive of anything else having the powerful, life-changing impact that hour in the tub had for me.

Works Cited

Rosdahl, Caroline Bunker, & Kowalski, Mary T. Textbook of Basic Nursing. Philadelphia: Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, 2007. Print.