Time is my enemy, or so I have declared it to be. Time conspires against me. It keeps ticking and tocking and moving and mocking me. The river keeps running and is never the same. The game is not endless and certainly not mindless although it feels that way.
I have plans, so many plans and the daily minutiae of life creates complex complications that work with time to steal it from me. It is among the most precious resources we have.
It is a funny thing, time that is. As a child it seems like there is an endless supply. I can remember my parents speaking to me about the first moon landing. (I saw it happen, but I don’t remember it.) I wasn’t more than seven or eight and I remember them speaking with me about the possibility of people one day living in space and that in the year 2000 there could be some incredible things.
And now it is 2006. It is around 30 years since that conversation. Just writing that makes me shudder. I shouldn’t be able to say that anything happened 30 years ago. I should still be that 16 year-old kid in Jerusalem.
It was only yesterday that I was 19 and madly in love and all I could see was an endless summer.
Now the only moments in which time seems to be endless are when I am stuck doing something that I really dislike. Those are the times in which I feel like somone has stopped the clock and I am a prisoner with nothing but time.
I played two hours of pickup basketball today. It followed the two hours I played last night and it reminded me again about how time has kept moving. I remember the way I felt, moved and played as a 20 year-old. I tried so very hard to do the things that I used to do and I couldn’t quite get there.
My legs felt wooden and my back ached. I am a couple of steps slower and since I broke my ankle I have fewer and fewer moments in which I can come close to touching the rim. My lungs burn and tomorrow there will be a rash of bruises across my arms, shoulders and chest that will stick around for a week.
I am not one of those people who cannot adapt. I have developed new tricks and added things to my game, but still my ego cries when the younger players burn me on a move that never would have worked a few years ago.
It is hard to accept that I cannot stay 20 forever, at least physically. Time is my enemy, but I am working on figuring out how to make it my friend.