The Hourglass

The Hourglass has always been a metaphor for time. With each grain of sand that falls through is a moment lost - its passage marks a passing of a moment that would never return. And every grain would slip and slide leaving nothing behind. The emptiness marks the end of a phase quite literally and metaphorically, a phase now dislocated from the continuum of consciousness.

So we ask ourselves what have we done while the grains were tunneling rapidly pass the narrow neck of clear and polished crystal. What did you do in the time that the world was passing you by? Was your head buried in the ground so deep that you could see nothing but the immediate darkness that shrouded any sense of hope and veiled you in fear and desperation? Was your eye cast to the sky to see nothing but white clouds and blue sky? Did the glare from the sun blind you from the moment? Or was your gaze to the ground with your sights cast on every step you took?

Did you look around to see what has passed you by? Did you taste the moistened air and did it taste sweet? Did you note the whiff that caused your nose to twitch unwittingly? Was it a pleasant smell? Did you hear the whisper that blew past your ear? Were you deaf to the jarrings that petrified the air? Did you look to see who was journeying beside you, and behind you? Did you remember their names? Did they matter to you? Did you stop in spite of the compelling desire to move forward? Did you pause to think about each step you were taking? Did you ponder about why you were sprinting forward in an unconscious need to keep up with a speed you did not dictate? Did you ask why your mind could not catch up with your feet?

And so we run through life while life itself runs us past. We never stop to ask why - till it is often too late. We dash pass life only to realise, at the final end point when mind and body have broken, that the most important things were rooted right there some moments ago - they never quite moved but we did. And with that backward glance, we see only a pale horizon of grey and brown; the things that mattered are no longer in sight, dissipated with the unseen horizon like an insubstantial pageant faded.


In these years of education and educating, it's always pained me to see the hours my students keep at their work and the sacrifices, knowingly or unknowingly they make, to stay ahead of the pack. And all around them life passes by, a life that could be, a life that could have been. The moments, the possibilities, the relationships, the things that matter - are lost in this frenzy of a misjudged pursuit. Everything, every person, every relationship, every event, every moment becomes functional and fleeting; here today, gone tomorrow. Nothing and no one is remembered ... for long.

But perhaps this is what they desire for they've never known any other...