A letter to Time

Dear Time,

You are such a mysterious and complex presence in my life. Constantly in motion, perpetually beyond my control, and yet so central to everything I do. Sometimes it feels as if you are my friend, a reliable companion who helps me gain perspective and grow. But other times, I experience you as a tyrant—always rushing, always driving me forward, as if I can never catch up.

Thank you for everything you have taught me. Through you, I have learned to appreciate the moment, to cherish those fleeting instances that might otherwise pass unnoticed. You have shown me that every moment is transient and that nothing lasts forever—neither pain nor joy. This is a truth that both comforts and challenges me.

But Time, I also want to question you. Why does it sometimes feel as though you are racing ahead, while at other times, you stand still? Why do you let me become so preoccupied with counting you, measuring you, and trying to control you, when I know that it is impossible? Sometimes I wonder if I am the one trying to capture you, or if it is you who holds me captive.

There are moments when I wish I could pause you, when the moment is too beautiful to let slip away. And other times, I want to hurry you along, when the pain feels insurmountable, and I just want to move on. But perhaps your wisdom lies in never heeding my attempts to change you. Perhaps it is your very inflexibility that is your gift.

I now realize that you are not my enemy but my teacher. You have taught me to let go of the past and not to lose myself in the uncertainty of the future. Through you, I have understood the value of being here and now, in this one moment that truly belongs to me.

So thank you, Time. Thank you for giving me the framework within which to create, but also for reminding me that those frameworks are fleeting. Thank you for teaching me to value life’s impermanence and for reminding me that nothing is ever too late as long as I am still alive.

I will never be able to control you, but I can choose how I relate to you. I choose to see you as a reminder of life’s fragility and beauty, and I choose not to let your passing dictate my life. Instead, I want to dance with you, live with you, and let you be a part of my life without defining it.

With respect and gratitude,

Mike