Chloinka

What Is Time (Part I)

So what is time, really? We could start with the standard definition, of course: “the fourth dimension… a measure in which events can be ordered from the past, through the present, into the future… also the measure of durations of events and the intervals between them.” But does that definition truly capture the essence of time? Perhaps not.

As Einstein once remarked, “[time] is not at all what it seems. It does not flow in only one direction, and the future exists simultaneously with the past. The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.” So what are we to make of that? Is time a mere fabrication of our minds, a construct that we impose on the world around us? Or is it a more fundamental aspect of reality, something that transcends our limited human perception?

It’s worth considering the role of our senses in all this. Our experience of the external physical world comes to us via one of the twenty-one or so-known human senses. But these senses are both fallible and ever so slightly delayed. For instance, it takes approximately eighty milliseconds for the sensation of touch to travel from the fingertip, through the nervous system and into the brain to be decoded and interpreted. The same logic applies to all our other senses. We experience everything about eighty milliseconds in the past. So are we ever truly living in the ‘here and now’?

And what of the units we use to measure time — seconds, hours, days, months, years? Who came up with these terms, and why do we use them? The answers may surprise you. But one thing is clear: whether we’re talking about the passage of a single millisecond or the arc of an entire year, time remains one of the most enigmatic and fascinating phenomena in the universe.

The concepts of a second, hour, day, month, and year all flow together into an inscrutable river of moments, oscillating and multiplying like subatomic particles within an atom.

Days and years come to us by way of the great celestial dance between the Earth, Sun, and Moon, but they’re all subject to the slight distortions of human measurement, a cosmic foxtrot that never quite syncs up to the beat.

The Moon’s gravitational pull ebbs and flows like a quarter-daily tidal wave, while the lunar cycle is the rough inspiration for our man-made months. But why are these units so inconsistently shaped and numerically diverse?

A minute passes in sixty seconds, but why sixty? Could it have been fifty or seventy-five? These questions might cause a ripple in the mind, but the answer lies in the vibration of a caesium 133 atom. A second is the duration of 9,192,631,770 oscillations within one of these atoms — naturally!

Who first dreamed up these chronometric units, and what were their intentions? Perhaps they were scholars, scientists, or philosophers, trying to impose an order onto the turbulent flow of existence. Or maybe they were just folks looking for a way to kill time.

The notion of time as we know it today is a purely human invention. The minute is a derivative of the Latin word ‘minuta’, meaning short note, and has no natural equivalent. The concept of hours can be traced back to the Babylonians and was later adopted by the Greeks. However, these hours varied in length, as daylight hours changed with the seasons. It was only in the fourth century in Europe that standard, or sidereal hours, were established, and even as late as the sixteenth century, hours could still be irregular in duration.

The week is thought to have originated from the lunar cycle, segmented into four discreet seven-day periods. Later, the seven-day Jewish week and the spread of Christianity cemented the week as a human convention. In Old English, the word for week was ‘wece’, which means change of direction, while the Old Norse word ‘vika’ means changing of oars, both accurately conveying the impact of the week on the human mind.

The week forces us into a monotonous routine, repeating itself predictably every seven days. It is also intimately linked with work and trains us to live our lives to a routine. But what if all days were equal? How would that change the way we approach work and leisure time? These questions are worth pondering.

Next, the month, the messiest of all man-made units of time. It’s a real head-scratcher, isn’t it? The Moon orbits the Earth thirteen times a year, giving us thirteen neat lunar months of twenty-eight days each. Simple, right? So why do we have twelve lopsided months of varying lengths? Thirty days for some, thirty-one for others, and poor February only gets twenty-eight, except in leap years. Why is September the ninth month, rather than the seventh, and why is October the tenth month, not the eighth? It’s a right kerfuffle.

And let’s not forget that the weeks don’t even line up with the months, except for February, which always seems to get the short end of the stick. Imagine if the centimetres on a ruler were all different lengths. Ludicrous, isn’t it? So why do we put up with this ugly asymmetry in our calendar? Why do we have a calendar at all?

Well, the answer lies in the word calendar itself. It comes from the Latin word “calends,” which was used to describe the monthly payment of debts and bills. Coincidence? I think not. Throughout history, calendars have been a powerful tool used by the ruling classes to control and tax the common folk. Everything from meetings to paychecks to leisure time is governed by the calendar and clock. It’s a rhythm of life that we’ve all grown accustomed to, but it’s a predictable and artificial pattern created by man, primarily with the aim of control and the motivation of greed.

The Gregorian calendar, introduced by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, is the most widely used calendar in the world today. It’s a refinement of the Julian calendar, introduced by Julius Caesar in 45 BC, which was itself a refinement of an earlier Roman calendar that had only ten months and started with Martius (now known as March). More months were added over time for various reasons, eventually bringing the total to thirteen. With the lunar cycle of thirteen months, it would have been perfect to stop there. But Julius Caesar had other ideas, didn’t he?

You see, back in 46 BC, the transition from the Roman calendar to the new Julian calendar required an entire year of 445 days! Yes, you heard me right, 445 days! And understandably, that year became known as the ‘year of confusion.’ But that’s just the beginning of this wild tale.

Julius Caesar, the man behind this change, had abolished a leap month called Mercedonius and renamed Quintilis (initially the fifth month) to Julius. His successor, Augustus, was so impressed with this that he did the same with Sextilis (initially the sixth month) and renamed it Augustus. But here’s where it gets really interesting. Augustus was dismayed to discover that Julius’ month had one more day than his, so he did what any self-respecting emperor would do: he took a day from February, the already shortest month, to ensure both months had the same length. In other words, the reason months are months is because of a competition between two men who couldn’t agree on whose testicles were bigger.

But let’s take a step back and think about the impact of all this. You see, many ancient civilizations used a 28-day lunar cycle, which wasn’t an accident. Humans have been living in harmony with natural cycles for over 150,000 years, and for most of that time, our survival depended on it. But the creation of artificial routines like weeks and months has detached us from the natural cycles we’ve grown accustomed to.

Take women, for example. The 28-day menstrual cycle aligns perfectly with the lunar cycle. In ancient times, before the construction of weeks and months, women would have their menstruation aligned with the new Moon and their ovulation aligned with the full Moon. Imagine the impact this might have had if all women’s menstrual cycles were aligned.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is all very interesting, but what does it all mean? Well, my dear audience, that’s a question for another time. Join me for the next part of this fascinating tale, where we’ll explore the true impact of artificial time on the human psyche and what we can do to reclaim our connection to the natural cycles that have sustained us for millennia. Until then, keep questioning everything, my friends!

Letting Go

Letting Go 

Think not that I still, when making tea,

Take two cups out; one for you, one for me.

Think not that I lose myself, in your hair,

Each time I find a strand so fair.

Think not that I, when homeward bound,

Check the window, hoping you'll be found.

Think not that I reach out, in the night,

To feel your touch, or hold you tight.

Think not that I miss, our morning embrace,

Or the way you brightened my waking face.

Think not that I climb, the stairs with glee,

Expecting you to reply, when I say "hello" to thee.

Think not that I, through old photos, wade,

In search of moments, for which I've stayed.

Think not that my heart races, when someone I see,

That looks like you, but is not meant to be.

Think not that I wander, through places so fair,

Hoping to find you, waiting there.

Think not that I miss you, for it cannot be;

In truth, I've set you free.

Crime and Punishment: A Review

I find myself in love with the art of writing, yet I confess I do not indulge in the act of reading nearly as much as I should. It's a curious thing, really. Each time I immerse myself in a book, I am left feeling invigorated and enlightened. The experience is never a letdown, for it always manages to bestow upon me some valuable insight. I tried the classic, Crime and Punishment, and was struck by its pertinence to contemporary existence. It's hard to believe that this masterpiece, crafted in the mid-nineteenth century, still speaks volumes to our modern-day lives.

The main character in Crime and Punishment, Raskolnikov, is a complex and tortured figure whose actions and thoughts are shaped by a number of internal and external factors. While the circumstances surrounding his life are unique, there are aspects of his story that can resonate with many people. In particular, his feelings of guilt, shame, and confusion may be relatable to anyone who is hiding a secret.

Raskolnikov is a character who is both driven and conflicted. His desire to prove himself as an extraordinary individual leads him to commit a murder, and while he initially feels that this action is justified, he is ultimately tormented by his guilt. His struggle to come to terms with his actions is compounded by his poverty, isolation, and sense of alienation from the world around him. These factors contribute to a deep sense of despair, as he tries to reconcile his own values with those of the society in which he lives.

Similarly, someone with a secret to hide may feel a similar sense of conflict and confusion. This person may feel torn between their feelings for their partner and their desire to be with someone else. They may experience feelings of guilt and shame, as well as a sense of isolation and alienation from the people around them. These feelings can be compounded by a sense of pressure from society to conform to traditional values and norms.

Like Raskolnikov, someone in this situation may also experience a sense of despair as they struggle to reconcile their own desires with the expectations of the world around them. They may feel trapped and powerless, unable to express their true feelings or pursue the life they want to live. They may also feel as though they are alone in their struggle, unable to share their feelings with others for fear of judgment or rejection.

Despite these challenges, both Raskolnikov and anyone in this situation may find hope in their ability to take responsibility for their actions and make positive changes in their lives. By acknowledging their feelings and taking steps to address them, they can begin to find a sense of peace and fulfilment. This may involve seeking therapy or counselling, talking to trusted friends or family members, or even ending a relationship if it is not fulfilling their needs.

Ultimately, the story of Crime and Punishment offers a powerful message of redemption and the possibility of finding meaning and purpose in life, even in the face of overwhelming challenges. While the circumstances surrounding Raskolnikov's life are extreme, his journey can offer insights and inspiration to anyone who is struggling to come to terms with their own desires and values. By embracing their true selves and taking action to live a more authentic life, they can find the peace and fulfilment they seek.

The Cemetery Chronicles: Personal Reflections on Northamptonshire's Graveyards - #1 London Road Cemetery, Kettering

#1 London Road Cemetery, Kettering

As a deep-thinking introvert, I have always found solace and tranquillity amidst the peaceful serenity of graveyards. During the toughest times in my life, a long walk through a cemetery has always been my refuge, helping to clear my mind, ease my anxiety, and reduce my stress. Being surrounded by the graves of so many departed souls provides me with a sense of perspective, reminding me that the problems that seem so big and insurmountable in my life are truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

And how fortunate am I to have so many beautiful cemeteries sprinkled throughout Northamptonshire and the surrounding counties. Through research into my family tree, I discovered that many of my own ancestors are buried right under my nose, which only adds to the richness and depth of my cemetery explorations.

In the late summer of 2019, I acquired a van after six years without a car, and my cemetery explorations could take on a new level of adventure and excitement. With a belly full of roast chicken or pork, my partner and I set off on Sunday afternoons like two explorers on a quest for hidden treasure. We braved rain, snow, wind, heat waves, and rainbows, laughing, singing, and munching on boiled sweets as we ventured forth in search of new discoveries.

London Road Cemetery is a quiet sanctuary that holds a special place in my heart. It's the final resting place of my great-grandfather, who passed away in 1999, as well as dozens of other relatives, including a 5th great-grandfather. But what makes this cemetery truly memorable are the little moments that I've shared there.

One such moment was the time I stumbled upon a bin full of dog poo bags in different colours. Maybe it was because I was love drunk, but I found something oddly beautiful about the scene. My date couldn't stop laughing, and I felt a little foolish for finding humour in such a thing, but it's those silly moments that stay with you.

The cemetery is also where I had my most romantic date. My beloved and I enjoyed egg mayonnaise and tuna sandwiches while sitting on a tree stump, and that spot will forever be unofficially ours.

I've seen the cemetery in all seasons, from the vibrant colours of autumn to the blanket of snow in winter, and it's always beautiful. Even on blisteringly hot summer days, when everything looks and smells green, there's a certain magic to the cemetery that can't be denied. And in the springtime, when the flowers are in bloom and the air is alive with the chirping of birds, it's uplifting to stroll among the graves and reflect on the cycle of life. Through every season, London Road Cemetery is a place of peace and reflection, a reminder that even in death, there is beauty to be found.

I remember the time we watched an ancient tree being fell, the smell of fresh wood filling the air. It was like witnessing a piece of history being dismantled before our very eyes. And then there was the time we were followed by a curious cat, always one step behind us, like a feline guardian angel watching over us as we wandered through the peaceful grounds.

We saw some characters there, too. Mad Dog and his mad dog, always a fascinating sight, and the infamous Nathan, a man who seemed to know every inch of the cemetery like the back of his hand. And the time we found a bird that looked like something out of Alien. It was a strange and wondrous discovery that added to the otherworldly vibe of the place.

But perhaps what I cherish most about London Road Cemetery is the hundreds of walks I've taken there, especially during the times when walking was all I could do to escape the pain I felt after losing my children. The serenity and beauty of the cemetery always gave me a sense of solace and comfort, a reminder that life goes on, even when it seems like the world has stopped. London Road Cemetery will always hold a special place in my heart, a testament to the power of nature and the resilience of the human spirit.