Time in a bottle

I’m probably one of the few people who can say they had a Jim Croce phase when they were 11. However, it wasn’t until recently, in the kitchen of my grandparent’s home, that I found myself decidedly perturbed by the lyrics of his No. 1  hit Time in a Bottle.”

Amid the preparation of dinner, as the sharp tune of the harpsichord echoed from my grandparents’ faded blue speakers, I began to subconsciously sing along in my best folk impression. However, as I did, Croce’s recurring complaint that “there never seems to be enough time/ to do the things you wanted to once you find them,” struck a chord within me and  made me realize his perception of time is not one I can agree with.

As a highschooler, it’s very easy to fall victim to a sort of forward-looking state of mind.  We are asked by our parents, educators, and peers what we want to do with our lives, where we wish to go to college, and how we plan to impact the world. This notion is not only impossibly perplexing in its nature, but also something I and many of my future college-going compatriots spend the majority of our days pondering. And in the midst, our continuous search for an ever-elusive answer to appease the curious adults, it is easy to forget that I am living a life right now. In the grand scheme of things, I can nearly guarantee that I value my happiness now just as much as I ever will. However, rarely do I or anyone else ask what I want out of my life right this moment. If I let the pressures of an impending future, I have realized that if I live life in pursuit of one destination, the enjoyment of the journey will soon pass me by.

Already facing multiple “lasts” in my first few months of senior year, I have quickly discovered that endings come and go without any regard for sentimentality. So instead of wishing for an impossible hold on time, I have learned to appreciate the aspects each day that make high school one of the most enjoyable times of my life. Because, after all, time is ceaseless, endings are inevitable, and sadly days don’t last forever.


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