A moment in Tim

I think a lot about time. I've written about it a great deal (including my last post which began in a very similar fashion...I repeat myself a lot, too). Time is one of those abstractions that we chase down rabbit holes thinking we can actually figure it out. 

In my experience, we can't. Or at least I can't.

I do note that we often treat time like a commodity. We've got nothing but time. We have plenty of time. He has too much time on his hands.

I think we also acknowledge that it is fleeting. Time keeps on slipping, slipping, into the future. Time is running out. If I could keep time in a bottle. We have no more time. Time's up.

But it is those moments in time (aren't all moments in time) that we cherish or hate. Those are the memorable times we think about fondly and wish we could relive or regret deeply and wish we could change.  Time, however, has nothing to do with either scenario. Apparently there is no time to go back and relive or redo. We do literally keep slipping into the future.

Or do we? That's where my ponderings start chasing their tails and get tied up in knots. If time isn't linear how can we slip into the future. Shouldn't we be slipping in all directions at once?  And if that is the case, then shouldn't there be the possibility that we could crisscross over something we've done before? 

I guess I'm referring to the metaphysical "we" because I don't think the physical "we" can do much of anything except age. The metaphysical "we" has more leeway to get all cosmic with theories about time, space and the whole universal enchilada. 

I suppose I think a lot about time because I would like it if it was more flexible and allowed me do overs. Because I don't see the point in doing something stupid at one time (pun intended) and being too young and stupid to know any better and then not being able to correct it when you are old enough to realize how stupid it was. 

In retrospect I would be redoing a good deal of my life before aged 50. 

But part of my also has come to the conclusion that it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. If in reality we just live, do shit, and eventually die then correcting the stupid things we did as some point is pointless. On the other hand, if we are on some grand metaphysical journey to achieve some level of perfection and learn lessons, then fixing things does make sense. 

I do have this nasty suspicion that if the latter is true I'd redo all of the things I regret only to be handed a list of the ones I should have regretted but didn't. 

I also imagine that on that list would be trying to figure time in the first place.