Slowing the Clock

THE FIRST TIME I remember realizing that “time flies” was during my senior year of high school. One of my class periods each day involved working in the school’s main office. My primary duty was to walk the hallways, gathering attendance sheets from each classroom.

It was a highly repetitive task, each day a replica of the prior one, with the route through the hallways never changing. On one of those days, I recall thinking, “I feel like I just did this.” And the next day was the same, as was the day after that. The routine’s regularity made the time go by quickly.

Today, some of the triggers of time’s noticeable passage are raking the leaves and pulling the Christmas decorations out of the attic. With each encounter with those boxes of decorations, I’m stunned once again that a year has passed. Perhaps the routine of these annual tasks is accelerating my perception of time’s passage.

I came across an article a few months ago that suggested that new experiences change our sense of time. The author writes, “When I experience newness, time slows down.” The ultimate example of this is life-or-death moments, which often prompt people to say that time seemed to stand still for them.

Last month, my wife and I went on our first cruise, a seven-day trek along the Western Caribbean, with stops at three ports. Not only was the cruise itself a first for us, but also each day was vastly different from the prior—sights, foods, destinations, shows and new people. Time passed so very slowly that by day five I was amazed that we still had two more days to go.

That week without our children—which added to its uniqueness—seemed to last multiple weeks in my internal chronometer. When we returned home, even my 12-year-old son told me the week seemed longer than normal because, instead of the regular routine of homeschooling, he and his siblings had fun doing unique activities all week with grandma.

My periodontics residency was the slowest three years of my life. Every day, I was preparing for challenging surgeries I’d never done before, reading hundreds of pages a week, preparing for literature seminars and trying my best to become an expert in a new profession. In addition, my wife and I had our first child during that three-year stint, so the novelty factor was a 10 out of 10. Time passed extremely slowly.

On the flipside, the bland, predictable rhythm of my current daily commute to and from work reinforces that the clock is always ticking—and somehow seems to tick faster with each passing day. There’s nothing new in each day’s drive, so the rapidity of the 24 hours that passed since the prior day’s trip is always front and center.

One of my favorite authors recently wrote, “The years stacked up behind me are pushing me forward faster and faster.” I’ve tried to mathematically explain to my kids why each year seems to pass more quickly for me than the prior one: “When you’re six years old, a year is one-sixth of your life, which is quite a lot. But when you’re 47 years old, like me, one year is 1/47th of my life, a much smaller fraction, so it seems to go by more quickly.” Even my first-grader can understand that.

Unique events in my life have helped to decelerate the otherwise rapid passage of time. Going on vacations to new places, visiting colleges with my daughters, packing up and making each of our many military moves, building new Lego sets—all have tamped life’s brakes for me.

My son and I went to an amusement park one night last week and our timing couldn’t have been better. There were no crowds and no lines for any rides. We rode so many rollercoasters—all new ones to us—that we were stunned when we checked the time and realized less than 90 minutes had gone by. Time had crawled at a snail’s pace because of the uniqueness of our experience.

Now that I’m approaching retirement in a few years, I find myself pondering how to slow the passage of time. Certainly, large scale, highly novel events will help, such as skydiving with my daughter in a few weeks or visiting a new country.

I’m also focusing more on injecting minor changes into my life. I hope every little bit of freshness can help me avoid monotony and its acceleration of time.

Perhaps our family should try to do the Christmas decorating a little bit differently each year. Maybe minor modifications—putting the tree in a new place or changing how we hang the lights—might slightly alter my perception of time. Or, contrary to my nature, I could try ordering something different next time I eat at my favorite restaurant.

My goal is to find novelty among the commonplace routines, looking for easy, yet new, ways to help slow the clock. This month, I’ll focus on learning a new game with my kids, practicing some unfamiliar piano songs, jogging along a few different paths and going on a date with my wife to an unfamiliar place.

Casey Campbell is an active duty military periodontist and a homeschooling father of five. He and his family currently live in San Antonio. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and shouldn’t be construed as official or as reflecting the views of the U.S. Air Force or Department of Defense. Check out Casey's earlier articles.

The post Slowing the Clock appeared first on HumbleDollar.