Time

I find it curious, our obsession with time.
We measure our days in hours, minutes and seconds…
These add up to months and years…
We seek to understand this phenomenon and have come to quantify our knowledge of time down to the most minute details, down to Planck time…
One could almost say, we do this in an attempt to attain a level of mastery over it.
Yet, for all of the units of time we have discovered, we never seem to have enough…
For all our talk of it, we seem to be greedy for more time…
“Just one more second,” or “give me a minute.”
We even have means to help someone “manage their time better,” and it is generally frowned upon to “waste another’s time,” or when one does not “take the time” for something…
Yet… When looking back and reflecting on things, we think more of moments rather than precise units of time…
Fleeting moments…
such as the time
you laughed with your friends;
cried because your heart was shattered into pieces;
how you felt when you overcame a particular challenge;
how you were scared for you life and thought you were never going to make it home;
or that kiss that made your heart quicken and the world fell away, ceasing to matter in that moment…
Our memories are measured in moments.