An Illusion

“Time is an illusion.” Albert Einstein  

I remember hearing my parents and their friends talk about how fast time goes when you get older. Thinking back to those conversations, I see myself shake my head and begin to roll my eyes. These words seemed to be a secret code that’d unlock the door to the vault containing all the most adventuresome tales, true or imagined, of each person seated around the table.

I’ve found a couple of explanations as to why time goes faster as we get older.

Chelsea Handler, in her new book, Life Will Be the Death of Me, has this to say:

“Time speeds up as it goes by. Someone explained to me that there is a mathematical reason for this: as you age, each year becomes a smaller percentage of the life you have already lived. I’m forty-two as I write this. One year now represents a small percentage of my forty-two years (about 2.38 percent). But when I was eight, one year was a really long time; it was an eighth of my life. (This is why summer lasted about four years when you were a kid.) This may be why I now feel an urgency to know more, to do more to be more.”

I heard this explanation of time on one of the local morning talk shows:

When you’re ten, it feels like you are going through life at ten miles per hour. When you’re twenty-five, you’re traveling at twenty-five miles per hour, thirty-five you’re running through your days at thirty-five miles per hour. Today, I’m traveling at sixty-six miles per hour, wishing I could take my foot off the accelerator and coast for a while at fifty-five.

“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?” 

Dr. Seuss

I am…

B…simply being. 


Thank you, Jo Heiple Thedens, for letting me share your photos in my blog. Each photo has its own personality which makes me smile and remember my Iowa roots. 

Wish Book

Christmas will always be as long as we stand heart to heart and hand in hand.  Dr. Seuss

Over the weekend I was thumbing through the AARP Bulletin. There on the top of page four, above the headline of Medicare 2018, on the In the News page, was this little note:

“Looking to connect with boomer nostalgia, Sears is publishing its holiday “Wish Book” for the first time since 2011. Launched in 1933, the catalog let generations of children dream of their perfect Christmas morning. In 1991, the “Wish Book” totaled 806 pages; this year it will be 120 pages.”

I had to laugh since I’d just written about catalog dreaming and shopping. I’d forgotten it was called the “Wish Book.” When I read how small the “Wish Book” will be this year, I could feel my smile slipping away. My first thought was, guess Sears made the first list edit for me. Then I thought how just the sheer size of that catalog was part of the thrill and the excitement of the whole thing. Really. It was gigantic. I had to use both hands to carry it around. When I was very young, the Christmas catalog was one of the biggest books I’d ever seen–for sure the biggest book I’d ever held in my hands.

Maybe finding that little note was not such a great find? Maybe we all would have been better off not knowing the revival of a beloved tradition was done on such a small, sad scale.

Maybe it’s better for us all to remember:

Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind.  Mary Ellen Chase. 

I am…

B…simply being…

Sending you all love.