Time

Part I

Age before Beauty??

Early Spring 2023

The general conception of beauty is quite opposite of what happens naturally over time, and also contradicts what nature shows us. For instance youthfulness and a slim figure are widely accepted ideals of human beauty, but for a tree every year of life adds an extra ring of girth, a ring of strength, a ring of wisdom. These older trees are larger than life, from the majestic Redwoods that tower in the Northwest to the Southern live oaks that bow graciously in a low sprawl in the Low Country-- trees showcase their beauty through age.

As I walked through the woods this spring, I noticed that the tree trunks are a little more mossy, fallen trees are crumbling apart a little bit more, young trees have grown a little bit taller, and older trees a little thicker.

Dents, scars, damage from fire or water, being broken, stepped on, hacked at, or bored into all display the beautiful story of its life. A tree's long winding roots show where it has traveled, what the conditions were like where it lived, and where it is headed.

The strange, contorted, bending of a tree shows resilience to whatever force was acting against it-- whether it be another tree or a storm that knocked it over-- and now it’s growing out in a different direction. Any stumps show branches that have been cut off or knocked off or fallen off, or where there was growth that had been denied .

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed several beautiful yellow flowers dancing on the breeze. As I looked to find the source of these flowers to take a picture, I saw it wasn’t part of a tree-- but a separate vine that was growing and traveling up the length of the tree and scrambling up the outstretched branches to get as much sun as possible. This vine grew up from the ground and wound itself around the tree trunk so tightly it seemed to be cutting into the trunk. As much I wanted to be angry about the injury it was causing the tree, I realized that this plant was only doing what it was meant to do. It instinctively grew and sought the highest place--to be close to the sun so it could survive. As the young tree grew in girth, it grew around the vine--and once the vine died, its journey left that winding indentation around its trunk.

This knowledge revealed a new chapter in the life story of some of the trees I have already encountered.

It is not only the trees that have changed and will continue to change however; the paths have changed as well, and new paths have been formed around some of the muddier portions of trail, or sometimes a direct path formed connecting two portions of a switchback. These new footpaths are not recommended by the park officials as it affects the forest by trampling existing foliage and thus affecting the ecosystem that had already been established. However, humans will be humans and we tend to forge ahead either oblivious to seemingly insignificant changes or indifferent. Life, all types--will always either be pioneers of change and forge ahead, or survivors of change--trying to keep up.

Part II

If Beauty in nature is connected to Age, then what is age?

Several weeks ago...

It has been said that age is just a number.

But its definition widely varies depending on perspective.

To the tree, age is survival and growth.

To the child, age is size.

To space, age is a unit of orbital time.

To the insect, age is a lifecycle from birth from an egg to creation of its own egg.

So then,

What is age?

What is time?

Does it even matter?

It is my belief via observation and thought, that time is a tool for measuring existence, distance, and movement or change.

My friend said something the other day that I found to be profound.

She said, “Comfort is a disease, and pain is the cure.”

I reflected on this and deciphered it this way:

That comfort can be similar to complacency, and either can bring about stagnation—there’s no reason to move or change— and where there is no growth there is death.

Pain on the other hand, discomfort and unease— are an energy that tends to propel one towards change and growth— which means living.

Bringing it back around to time then, aging would be living and growing — a measurement of change in life.

We tend to think of people who are stuck in the past or who haven’t aged as immature and foolish. As I have gotten older I have seen many ages and stages— through personal experience and observation-- it’s a fascinating thing!

From growing a tiny human inside my tummy— to bringing that child forth into the world a helpless babe…crawling and babbling…standing and walking…talking and learning. We measure a child through their various stages of development. When they are very young we measure by weeks…then gradually months—after about 36 months we begin counting in years…. Those first 3 years are LOONG (mostly because everything had a label stating not suitable for 3 and under - as if 3 were a magical number) and there is that measuring tool again!

We base so much on age— when to begin elementary school…when to play with legos…when to switch to booster seats, when to get the first job, drivers license, voting privileges, ability to consume alcohol and tobacco products, they all seem to propel youth forward through these human ordained milestones...but after 21--then what?

It's laughable really, because afterwards there are few milestones: at 25 your car insurance should go down... 35 you can run for presidency...65 you can draw social security...

The milestones still exist, of course--graduating college for example, or getting married. Having children, and then we begin to measure by our children's milestones...it's very cyclical. In the meantime tend to measure in decades—30s, 40s, and 50s— sort of your adult time heading into middle age. It is rather bleak, being labeled "over the hill" or going through a "mid life crisis." None of it sounds appealing--no wonder youth is so romanticized!

This brings me to the 3rd and final part of my post:

Chasing the sun

My moms mother passed away Friday, May 12, 2023.

She was 92 years old.

As my brother drove my sister and me the last leg of the 1000 mile journey to her funeral, I had a random thought—

We are chasing the sun

Let me share my train of thought:

We left at 6am and I began the first portion of the drive, heading west and then south. I would glance at the GPS and see 998 miles…970…933…890 and I would countdown,

“We are out of the 9s and into the 800s!”

As we continued westward through Georgia and Alabama we drove through multiple rainstorms, through beautiful mountains and we watched the trees shrink and the land flatten.

The clouds were white cotton, fluffed high into the sky— a delightful 3D spectacle.

We passed through a time zone and my car stayed EST but my phone updated to Central time. So now our day lengthened by an hour and we continued west, chasing the sun. For a short while our day lasted longer, the sunlight stuck around for awhile and we kept pushing west-- but in the end it won the race, because the sun moves faster than my 70-75 mph speed on I-20.

Just like time.

I had an image in my head as the thought congealed in my mind:

We chase the sun when we chase time—

Granddaughter chasing after daughter chasing after mother chasing after her mother and so on and so forth.

It is not a choice, perhaps it’s more that time chases after us and we run from time-- chasing the sun— to gain more daylight…more hours…more time— but each moment we are closer to death. And those that come after us chase the same way we did.

So then, if stagnation is death--but movement is also death (in the end)--

what is age?

what is time?

and does any of it matter?

This isn't meant to present firm answers, but to incite an inner monologue that will propel you forward to grow.

For my definition of age will be different from yours. I tend to view wisdom and age as imperfect and spectacular--I wouldn't trade anything to be young again. Not if it meant losing all I have gained this far in my life. I hope you will value and embrace all you have gained in your years--even the tough years where you felt cut down and suffocated like the trees in the woods. You have fantastic rings of life on your belt, and wisdom and your body and age tell a magnificent story.