Time Never Has And Never Will Make Sense To Me
Originally written on December 21, 2023. Republished in 2026.
I’m leaving this exactly as I wrote it back in 2023.
Reading it now feels surreal.
At the time, I was a married mother living in Asia, reflecting on how quickly five years had passed since finding an empty journal page dated 2018. Now it’s 2026. I’ve moved countries, built new routines, experienced entirely new versions of myself, and somehow even more life has happened since then.
It’s funny how the things that once felt so monumental eventually become chapters within even bigger stories.
I wanted to share this piece as a reminder that time keeps moving with or without our conscious awareness of it. We blink, and years pass. We become people our younger selves couldn’t have imagined. The places we call home change. The things we fear change. The things we value change.
And yet, reading old words allows us to meet former versions of ourselves with compassion, gratitude, and a little bit of disbelief.
So here’s a small time capsule from me in 2023.
When I think of time, a certain painting pops into my head. A painting by Salvador Dali of those melting clocks. I think it’s because it truly does capture time’s essence. Basically, that time fades (or melts) from our grasps at whatever alarming rate it does.
I’m thinking about time randomly, because of what I found in a journal I’ve used throughout the years. I have so many journals that I’ve kept since college that are mostly empty. Due to the embarrassing fact that I never stuck with my studying or note taking. Still, I keep these journals because I actually don’t want to waste the paper, sue me.
When flipping a page on my preloved journal, the date “April 10, 2018” appeared at the top of an empty page. Were there any notes written underneath the time stamp? Absolutely not. But that just fascinated me.
I was in college in 2018 and I can’t even remember for what class I had gotten that specific notebook for, but to read that date five years later was telling all in itself. What has happened since that date in time? SO much. So so so much. In the greatest of ways and saddest of ways.
I can’t reiterate enough that there was NOTHING else written on that damn page… So it’s not that deep, but it is. For me at least.
Time made me nervous growing up. It actually gave me early feelings of anxiety, to be honest, and I didn’t know it at the time. I was ready to grow TF up. I was ready to do all the things that came with adulthood. I saw time differently then than I do now.
Time to me (in the past) meant events… and certain milestones. Time for me now means moments and intangible feelings.
I can see that the days are long and the years are short. That saying never made sense to me, but it does now. I think because I have a child and am currently experiencing time through his age and evolution. Every day comes and goes so fast, and I don’t have time to process the time until the next birthday or next accomplishment of his. It’s a f***ing trip.
Five years had passed from that random date I found in my journal. I’m seriously so grateful to have come across that today. I’m married, a mother to my child(ren), and live in Asia… Like WTF! It has given me a deeper desire to want to journal every day. I also want to consistently post so that I can see my progression and writing style evolve for the better. Finding certain keywords via my website will be much easier than going through pages of my journal, that’s for sure!
We are all wrapping up 2023, and if you haven’t reflected on the time you’ve had so far… You should. Give yourself that acknowledgment so you have more motivation and desire to accomplish in the year ahead. You deserve it.
I love you, and I appreciate you all for reading my posts and knowing they’re RAW AF. I’m not trying to be grammatically correct or proper. I’m trying to share my voice and genuine way of being, organically and unapologetically.
xoxo,
ALM
