We are probably not the only species that marks time; we just aren’t smart enough to figure out other species’ systems.
Here we are, trading in one set of markers for the next — 366 days gone by this time around, and we return to the standard 365. Enough leaping for one quadrennium, says I.
It’s good to have a timeline to see where we’ve been and project where we might be going: I was born then, I graduated that year, met my mate in this season, found my dream job in that time and place for so long …
Just as long as time does not become a trap — “Just wait until 2021, it’ll all get better then.” (Why not today?) or “I will fulfill my destiny when the clock strikes midnight on such and such a date” (Why not now?) — but rather a challenge: “Can I pay off that credit card by this date?” “Can I finish my project by that date?”
The calendar is a tool, not a prison or a sentient being. (Enough with the “go away, 2020, I hate you” — the calendar didn’t cause all that.) It’s a reminder of how our days and months and years are linked, a reference point to past, present and future, and a compass to help determine where we are and where we’re going.
We free ourselves when we tell the calendar what to do, and not the other way around.
Set your own deadlines and aim for the stars.
