Time as it Passes, Naturally

a simpleton's uneducated and untenured reflections on time in an empty classroom

It was Friday, and in the schedule that we were assigned to, we were free on the hour right after lunch on Fridays. It was silent and only the faint whirl of the fan next to me and the tournament announcer’s voice emanating from my classmate’s phone as he spectates an e-gaming tourney’s conclusion made up the background cacophony that filled up the room, anything other than that would be the beating of my typing whilst I write this account.

It has no point actually, well at least not at the construction of this very sentence, but I do hope that it will, so I’ll have, by God’s grace, some subject, event, or phenomena to write about. The clock sets its smallest arms lower and lower and then, after time passes by, raises it higher and higher and lower still and higher more. Every minute that collapses and is rebuilt upwards by the seemingly perpetual motion of time is not measured by the clock that had been so designed to do exactly that. Something that can be noticed around us, not formulated within our minds by the impetus of the implications of what is noticed outside the mind, but purely what is noticed externally as is, as a phenomena as direct unto us and as passing unto us, can be seen as the realest of the real. For reality, at least the imperfect and incomplete kind of reality that is permitted to us, the imperfect and incomplete of perception, is as is inasmuch as is-ness can be.

It is just there, occupying the cardinal space of spaces, phasing in and out, from the background unto the façade of what can be-not seen, sensed, felt, or even perceived, but what can be. It is the background of the universe, brought forth nearer unto the center of experience by the decorators (those who perceive) or reduced unto the very backness of what can be experienced.

The eternity and reality of change as a phenomenon that even the multiple dimensions beyond the limits of our perception and the limits of the perceivable-ness of the subject our perception is centered on, is mere proof of the eternity and reality of time. Where there is change, there is time as mere example, forerunner, and trailing exhaust of that change. Change is the proof for time, and time is the expendable evidence for change to come. A type of evidence that is not physical, material, or even merely empirical but is metaphysical. Time’s supposed unrealness is the result of a mind unwilling to examine on its unexaminability, unable or unwilling to meditate and contemplate on its immeditatetability or uncontemplatibility. Times realness comes forth from the primality of its intertwinedness with change. Change is the physical evidence of time, perceived and noticed by human perception. Time as interpreted by change is the reason why the clock ticks and why it matters.