The Compression of Time

September 2022

By Richard Fleming

An unusual feature of aging is the rapid acceleration of time. Each year goes by quicker than the preceding one. And much faster than those we lived through 5, 10, and 20 years ago. Astrophysicists advise us that time is not a fixed concept. As an object accelerates and approaches the speed of light, time slows down. And conversely as that object slows down, time moves more quickly. So it should not be surprising that for humans too, as we grow older and our rate of speed slows down, time speeds up. It is just basic astrophysics.

In my early years of practice, older patients often told me about this phenomenon. Most presented it as a complaint, a discriminatory experience. People in their 70s and 80s said how unfair it was that time accelerated as they aged. Time should be prolonged, not abbreviated. I sort of understood what they were reporting, but it did not really hit home until I was around age 50. After I had accumulated a half century’s worth of living, I began to notice this basic principle of astrophysics applied to me also. The interval between major holidays appeared to shorten. The time between birthdays shrunk noticeably.

Seasons began to fly by. In the old days, autumn – my favorite season – would shape the land for three months or even longer. When I was young, I loved to be outside as the temperature gradually cooled and leaves lazily turned to red and gold. Trees slowly shed their ornaments, and birds I had seen throughout the summer flew off and away. My friends and I played touch football in Topeka’s Edgewood Park, a short walk from where we lived, and the games seemed to go on for hours. Dusk gradually came earlier, but each day lingered for hours.

As I grew older, I noticed autumn growing shorter. No sooner did I start enjoying the magical fall transition than it was over. Trees grew bare quickly. The world assumed the gray hues of winter before autumn even matured. Time accelerated before my eyes. In grade school, an autumn weekend day would last forever. Now that I’m in my 70s, these same days vanish before I even take a deep breath.

There are other ways to understand the startling compression of time as we age. For example, when I took American history in high school, the country’s existence seemed to extend back for centuries. Because that was actually true. So much had happened. We studied our country’s major military conflicts, including the Revolution, the Civil War, and two World Wars. These conflicts were meaningful parts of our history, even though they were so ancient.

But aging casts the unspooling of history in a different light. I recently realized I have been alive for 29% of the total time the U.S. has existed. I have been breathing, living, and walking the earth for well over one quarter of the years since the country’s founding. (Am I being optimistic or pessimistic if I round this off to about one third?) I’ve been alive 45% of the time since the Civil War. That is close to half! It turns out the Civil War did not end all that long ago. OK, since I’ve piqued your curiosity, I’ve been alive for 68% of the years since the end of World War One. Don’t even ask about World War Two.

What happened? Where did time go? There are so many things I’ve been intending to do. I need to face the reality I won’t have time for them all. So many books will go unread. Those novels incubating in my brain will go unwritten.

I’m not full of despair, though. Not at all. I have done many things, seen many places, and read many books. I had a rewarding career. I’ve maintained many friendships, including a group of friends from Topeka I’ve been close with for over 60 years. I’ve been a good husband, step-father, and grandfather, and am proud of the family I’ve been part of building.

But there is always more. Always so much more. Why didn’t I manage my time more efficiently? Why didn’t I listen to those wise elders who told me a few decades back to not wait on things I wanted to accomplish. Or did they offer that advice just a few years ago? Time is amorphous, unstable, illusory. Clocks try to fool us. Calendars are deceptive and dishonest. Wristwatches are liars and cheats. Trust me when I say that none of these markers of time can be trusted.

So what lessons can I draw? While I wish my years ahead would be more and longer, I am where I am. Aging is helping my ability to focus. I will concentrate on fewer, more meaningful goals. I have months and years ahead and much life yet to live. I have memories still to create, both for myself and my family. And when my time comes, these memories will be the main legacy I bequeath to my family and loved ones.

Yes, it would be nice if time would slow down as though I was approaching the speed of light. But it can be fulfilling and rewarding to live fully at the speed of life.

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