Ken Hurley
I asked “Do you know what time it is?” Man looked at his watch and said, “3:36.” Two minutes later I asked the same man, “Do you know what time it is?” Man looked at his watch again and said, “3:38.” - personal observation
You're supposed to enjoy every sandwich. - Warren Zevon
ONE OF MY LIFE GOALS has always been to have more time. More time to enjoy what being alive offers. At a young age I realized that for me to want more time as a goal, there must be conditions. Certainly, I do not want to spend any time in the slammer. Too late for that pipedream. One day I may share my experiences hitchhiking around America when I was 17 and my brief time in the pokey.
So, I revised my goal to want more quality time. Today, I realize if I cannot get a time extension on my life, say another healthy three hundred years or so, then my goal is to figure out a way for the allotted time I have to move more slowly in an enjoyable way. I understand that the passage of time is relative. If you have ever spent time with certain relatives, then maybe you've discovered how to slow time. But, is it enjoyable?
We humans are bound by the unchangeable trajectory of time. Are there any strategies we can employ to perceive time differently allowing us to appreciate each rapidly passing moment in a way that makes the good moments last longer?
So I followed a powerful suggestion by eating “... one of those squat, plump little cakes called ‘petites madeleines,’ which look as though they had been molded in the fluted valve of a scallop shell.” As Marcel Proust describes them, and made them forever popular in his epic work, In Search of Lost Time, aka Remembrance of Things Past. My memories were jogged just by entering the bakery of my childhood.
The madeleine biscuit is a bit larger than a walnut yet soft and spongy, with a quality and potential to stir powerful memories of things past. I had my first madeleine biscuit as a child, brought home by my mom from Hofstetter's Bakery. You may have memories that rise from a bakery too. Maybe, a proper seven-layer cake? My mother, who I am certain had no knowledge of Proust, unwittingly created memories for me that I now realize help slow time.
Living within the reality of memories (distorted or other) evoked through the senses by the humble tea-soaked madeleine (mom's preference Orange Pekoe) helps time move more slowly. So, later in life, I bought a box of madeleine biscuits each week for a month and journeyed through fond memories triggered by relishing a madeleine biscuit immersed in Orange Pekoe. This sort of deep mental and emotional involvement in sensations and memories seems to allow for an expansion of time. As it turns out, good memories can encourage a profound appreciation for the present moment. After a while though, the delight of the madeleine biscuit turned into a displeasurable belly ache. So I tried Melba Toast. But I couldn't find any fond memories to help me slow time.
There is a phenomenon known as the "flow state," introduced by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. (Please repeat his name out loud.) When individuals are fully engaged in an activity that challenges their skills and immerses their attention, they enter a state of flow where they lose track of time. This happens to me when I sit at a piano to compose or play. Or when I hike, write lyrics, poems, or short stories, or doodle. Or when I write what you're reading now. You're likely wondering will this drivel ever end? See, time can move slowly! Anyway, I can get fully absorbed in a focused flow that seems to slow time. Or at least, make me unaware of how fast time truly is.
The flow state is mindfulness which cultivates awareness of the present moment, discouraging preoccupation with past or future events. I'm told mindlessness does the same. Ignorance is bliss sort of thing. The focused flow state is different from the madeleine biscuits scenario. Self-awareness can anchor one's attention to the present, foster a deeper connection with lived experiences, which seems to me expands the perceived duration of time.
Cultivating mindfulness through practices such as meditation or mindful breathing can ground us in the present and enhance our awareness of time passing. By consciously noticing the finer details of our surroundings and sensations, we can engage more effectively with the present moment, leading to a more fulfilling experience of time. A good trick to slow time happens when you sit quietly with no external distractions and become aware of your breathing, heartbeats, and gentle thoughts. Sit with them for a while each day. Time enjoyably slows.
Our perception of time is not solely governed by objective measurements such as a clock or stopwatch. After all, time is merely a human measurement of distance. Our perception of time is shaped by various cognitive and physiological factors.
One factor is the "oddball effect." Looking at you, Schwammy! (It's actually a compliment.) The “oddball effect” explains how our perception of time can be distorted by unexpected or novel stimuli. We seek ways to break the mundane monotonous patterns of life. The introduction of an unexpected element, the "oddball," momentarily disrupts life’s predictable patterns, which helps create the illusion of time slowing down. A baseball pitcher and batter understood this well until MLB introduced the pitching time clock in 2023 to help speed the pitcher/batter interchange.
Another phenomenon linked to physics and the psychological experience of time is called "time dilation." In situations of extreme danger or heightened emotions, individuals often recall the event as if it were occurring in slow motion, suggesting that this apparent alteration in time perception arises from an increased activation of the amygdala and other related brain mush, which allows for more detailed and vivid memories.
One example from my real life is when I drove a taxicab as a part-time job in college. It was midnight and I had just dropped off my passengers at their motel. I was only one minute onto the desolate service road when I saw a car speeding toward me. I was hit head on by a drunk driver doing over 60 mph in a 25 mph zone. As our headlights got closer, just before they smashed, the dark night blindingly brightened until the boom of the crash caused everything to go dark again. My cab was spun around and was pushed 80 feet before it was stopped by a telephone pole. The dashboard collapsed onto my legs as my head crushed through the windshield. No seatbelt. Fortunately, a hard head. I remember my first words were not eloquent, “Oh, shit.” I couldn't open the door but the window was down so I climbed through the window. First thing I noticed, I could stand. That was a relief. Second thing I noticed was that it seemed like it was raining. But I could see stars. Actual stars in the sky! No clouds. I was confused. Next thing I noticed was that my cab was a mangled wreck. It took me a moment to locate the car that hit me. I found it but I couldn't see anyone inside. I couldn't open the doors. As I struggled to figure out what to do, other people arrived. One man came to me in an anxious state yelling, “I saw the whole thing. He ran a stop sign! Mister, are you ok?” We stood face to face. I asked him, “Is it raining?” He said, “Mister, that's your blood running down your face. You better sit down. You might faint.” Well, I didn't sit down. I didn't faint. The bright headlights and “rainy” blood are vivid examples of psychological “time dilation.”
The desire to slow down time is not mine alone. Which is why science explores the biological mechanisms that influence our perception of time. Our internal biological clock, known as the circadian rhythm, regulates our sleep-wake cycle and influences our perception of time. Disruptions to our circadian rhythm, such as jet lag, a newborn baby in the house, or unpredictable shift work, can distort our perception of time, making us feel that time has either accelerated or decelerated.
Our perception of time is also influenced by how good we feel as determined by the level of dopamine in our brains. I don't want to waste time explaining that dopamine is a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and reward, which plays a an important part in our perception of time. When dopamine levels are elevated, time seems to pass more quickly, while lower dopamine levels result in a slower perception of time. Turns out that I put the dope in dopamine. If I better understood the intricate relationship between dopamine and time perception, it might help me develop appropriate strategies to slow down time.
The old adage, “Time flies when you're having fun," seems true. Although, perhaps, time moves at just the right pace.
Next time you find yourself needing to kill some time, give me a call. Perhaps, we can spend some time wisely trying to figure out how to slow time enjoyably.
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