A ticking clock calms the mind
And reminds us of what matters
I was lying in a different bed last week listening to two ticking clocks. Synchronised, they ticked away patiently and efficiently, counting away the seconds, and then the minutes, as I lay awake thinking a little, then drifting back to sleep. The clicking of each clock had a soothing effect on me.
For clocks, time is nothing. For they are machines, mere mechanical devices. Quite simple ones, yes, but elegantly constructed. And tasked with a beautifully simple but vital task. To tell the time.
When their batteries run out, or their internal weights or springs lose energy and need rewinding, their ticking slows down. But time continues to pass as it has since the beginning. Time would not come to a halt if every clock in the world stopped ticking, although that is a rather quixotic notion to entertain.
A functioning clock therefore, as it gently punctuates each second of the day, is a reminder of the reality we occupy. A punctual, relentless, unwritten memo that points out the obvious, but not the mundane. That everything in the universe had a beginning. That everything has an end. That we have a finite amount of time to accomplish what we set out to do, whatever that may be, even it be as simple as to sit still and contemplate time itself.
In this way, time gives us a chance to draw up some priorities. About what it is that matters to us. About what should be important to us. Or even to simply explore why we search for any meaning in the first place. If time did not exist in our universe then this would not be possible, for we would be stuck in one moment. Unable to even change a thought, or move a finger, for there would be no time in which to do it.
In my novella Through Open Doors the protagonist, Mr. Deardsley, can almost feel time running away from him, or slipping out of his hands. He cannot control it, because he has a diminishing command of his own life. But none of us have mastery over time, or of the unimaginably vast web of interconnected events that take place within our existence.
All we can do is keep listening to the ticking of the clock.
Shout out!
Shout out to those who have left a review of one of my books on Amazon. I truly appreciate it.
Progress update:
First draft of the The Man Who Wore Hats (working title) is done. Comes in at 57,194 words at present. I am attempting to muster the energy to edit and refine it.
I am now almost ready to attempt a second edit of The Gaff (my latest novella).
Take it easy. And thanks for reading.