Our lives seem to be constantly focused on the future with little thought about the present moment. Almost devotedly, we dance to the incessant tick of the watch. We plead with the clock to move faster at work. We stare at it in class, almost as much as we would an attractive person. It is the first thing to greet us in the morning with its neon-flashing smile. In fact, we are so close to our beloved clocks that we’ve given them faces and hands and personified them to the level of speech.
So, what does the clock say?
Despite our deep-seated devotion to these devices, time — in all reality — has no concern for us whatsoever, and I think we are overly concerned about it. I’ve heard the theory that if one were to travel faster than the speed of light, time would stop. Obviously, this is an unfeasible idea for any person on Earth. Yet, it seems as if people have actually set out to test this theory, considering the way we run from place to place, one moment to the next, without pausing. The problem is the more we try to clutch time in our fists, the more time slips through our fingers. It is definitely one of those strange, paradoxical concepts we humans have set up for ourselves.
I’m not saying we should have a march against day planners, burn all clocks and go back to calculating time by the height of the sun. After all, to a certain extent we have to plan the future. But perhaps too much thought goes into what will happen and not enough into what is happening at the moment.

From the brilliant words of my sixth grade math teacher, “Be where you are.” If we try to challenge time, it becomes the unstoppable enemy. If we try to forget about time, it will sneak behind and eventually pounce on us. What we need to do with time is just start living it. Live in the present. Whether outside in the rain, or in a freezing lecture hall or weighing bananas at Safeway, how do you feel right now? We have five senses, but do we take full advantage of these? How much more could we experience if we gave attention to each? The present moment is the moment closest to eternity. It is without beginning and without end.
Although the verb “to be” is one of the first learned when studying languages, it is a verb few of us have actually mastered. I am certainly no example of self-mastery. You would think I’m tied to some invisible yo-yo, the way I bounce up and down and end up tied in knots. But I am realizing, through much self-inflicted pain, that I’m only really living if I let myself think about the present and take time to experience it.
So now that you’ve read my few words of wisdom, I’m sure you all feel inspired to parade around campus singing “Let it Be,” by the Beatles, even if I do sound like one of those strange, poetic romanticists. But for whatever it’s worth; just sit back and take life in. Consider the fine oval quality of the lentils in your soup and the lovely streaks the never-ending rain makes against the window. Consider the moment.