“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.” – Andy Warhol
I’ve been learning a lot about beginnings. Moving from the beginning of something involves not time, but a willingness to take a step in a foreign direction on good faith that it’s where you need to go.
You could be at the beginning of something for a long time…years, even. And you’ll always be frustrated why it still feels like the beginning, all the while not knowing that the beginning has nothing to do with time. It’s sequential. It lives in segments, not seconds. It’s part of the process of a bigger thing — the thing you start and whose ending you dream about. That’s why the beginning always feels like the longest part, because you could be at the starting line for a long time and not even know it. Beginning and end live outside of time and inside hope, dreams, and the desire to become a better version of yourself.
Perhaps that’s why we become so frustrated with progress, or lack there of, because we’re measuring progress with time. When you’re afraid of something, you let it become a part of your life in a fundamental way. It directs your actions and thoughts, and tends to be a defining feature of who you are. When you’re afraid of time, you’re always measuring life by it because you can’t escape it’s perceived weight on your belief system.
Time does not give birth to progress, and progress is not necessarily an indicator of time passed. All this to say, don’t start something with the understanding that time will do the work or that time will magically transform the beginning into the end. Don’t let time be the ruler of your decisions. Waiting for time to do your work won’t solve anything.
Instead, let things be what they are. Let what comes into your life, come; let what leaves, leave. Do the work, trust the process. Don’t worry about the time frame. Allow for the possibility that you don’t know always know what’s best for you at all times. Because if you can surrender that, you can, in some ways, live outside of time, and suddenly, time doesn’t matter so much.
This, for me, is a somewhat startling lesson because I have placed great importance on time, and have relied too much on what I have believed about it. I have created what I think time is, what it means, and how it will impact my life and I have lived according to those standards. But if for just a moment I can see time as simply another detail — the vessel, powered by both quiet and loud actions, that carries our beginnings and ends — maybe I can learn to live outside of the effects of my own beliefs. Because while time is always moving, it is always constant…always here, it was always then, and it will always be. But that is all it is.