The Illusion of Time and How to Slow it Down
A mind-bending look at what we call time and what influences our perception of it
Imagine the Earth devoid of human life, inhabited only by plants and animals. Would it still have a past and a future? Could we still speak of time in any meaningful way? The question “What time is it?” or “What’s the date today?” – if anybody were there to ask it – would be quite meaningless. The oak tree or the eagle would be bemused by such a question. “What time?” they would ask. “Well, of course, it’s now. The time is now. What else is there?”
– Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now
“Jeremy Bearimy, baby.”
— NBC’s The Good Place (And while yes, that’s a sitcom, the joke is rooted in research.)
Have you ever felt as though time was standing still? Maybe it was a time you were deep in a snowy forest. Or the first kiss you shared with your spouse. Or—to go to the other extreme—maybe your life was in danger, and everything seemed to flash before your eyes at once or slowed down to ‘bullet time.’
No species other than homo sapiens uses concepts, let alone the concept of time. Nor—to the best of our knowledge—does any other form in the universe. We are all so identified with our ideas about how the world is that it seems heretical to question whether what we call ‘reality’ might, in fact, be an illusion.
We all agree that the International Date Line means Australia is a calendar day ahead of North America, but if I’m texting someone in Sydney, does that mean he’s actually living in the future? Of course not. If that were true, I’d have raked in a fortune in lottery wins – and so would everyone else in the Northern Hemisphere.
The many calendars of humans on Earth
Consider that:
The Hebrew new year is in September, and the current year is 5785
For Muslims, New Year’s falls on the first day of Muharram, usually in the summer
The Chinese New Year celebrating 4722 arrives in what the Gregorian calendar calls next month (February 2024)
The Hindu New Year is the day after Diwali, the Festival of Lights, the dates of which change slightly, depending on the lunar calendar
The Maori celebrate their new year with the rise of a certain constellation in the summer, which also varies year to year
A Celtic year is 354 days, instead of 365, and the Celtic new year falls in late autumn
Even the division of time into 60-second minutes, 60-minute hours, 24-hour days is arbitrary. For a while, in 18th century post-revolution France, weeks were 10 days long, and days were 10 hours of 100 minutes each, which in turn had 10,000 seconds.
People freaked out in 2012, believing the Mayans had literally predicted the end of the world, rather than the evolution to a higher stage of human consciousness.
To function in Western society, though, we need things like the ability to plan and schedule. Otherwise, meeting a friend for coffee would be terribly… random.
The only moment is now
The only moment that actually exists is right now. Even that is limited to our planet, because the ‘now’ we experience—even when we account for time zone differences—doesn’t reach other parts of the universe for days to centuries. At least, as far as we know.
…and also, maybe, all other moments ever
In 2009, I met a man who told me he’d had a spiritual awakening while sitting on a dock: Suddenly he saw three distinct spheres—which he perceived as past, present and future. Except they were all simultaneous. Everything that has ever happened and will ever happen, he said, is happening in this moment. That sounded kind of trippy, even to me.
In the decade since I first wrote this post, I’ve learned that what he experienced is what’s theorized as the block universe. Or, if you prefer, Jeremy Bearimy:
If the block universe is real, that would mean that the present is influencing the past. When I first wrote this post in 2014, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around that. But maybe this post, in 2024, is inspiring that one? 🤔
Over the past 15 years, I’ve had thousands of experiences of my consciousness being in what appear to be different times simultaneously—I might be sitting in my office and also raising my hand in high school English class, or writing a scathing review of an early Adam Sandler movie, or frantically selling old dishes on eBay. I know my body is in my office; I’m not delusional or hallucinating. It’s just that my consciousness is also somewhere else.
These are different from remembering. It’s impossible to capture this experience in language, but these aren’t memories; they’re moments of co-occurring consciousness. The sensation is a bit like dejá vu, except my body (thankfully) is anchored in one place and time.
Albert Einstein as mystic
Many of Einstein’s most famous quotes came when he was comforting people who were grieving. When a friend of his passed away in 1955—only a month or so before the father of relativity himself died—he wrote to the family, “For those of us who believe in physics, the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
From the article linked above:
“…perhaps that experience of time is just that — an experience. Perhaps the future is just as locked in place as the past, and we simply can’t access it for some psychological reason. Perhaps our consciousness demands a “flow” from past to present to future, when in reality there is no such strict direction.”
Still, one of the limitations of the human mind is that we simply don’t know what it is we don’t know. Many contemporary scientists have insisted that Einstein’s words were misinterpreted, or that he was flat-out wrong. The more I learn about him, though, the more I’m convinced he was as much a mystic as a physicist.
How the perception of time passing affects us
In 2009, I discovered that having clocks all over the place increased my anxiety. I’d wake up stare at the bright blue lines on my bedside clock in the middle of the night. As I watched the lines change, anxiety rose about my ability to return to sleep.
During the day, clocks became a reminder of what I wasn’t getting done. So I got rid of every clock I had. I did have a Palm Treo 650, as well as a laptop, so if I needed to know the time, I could.
Constant awareness of time passing often creates anxiety and stress, because we live in a goal-oriented culture that demands: “What have you accomplished today?”
On the one hand, that question/imperative is pointless: the presence of a clock doesn’t change how much we are capable of accomplishing. On the other, the question is based on a false premise – that our productivity is more important than the act of being. Of living each moment.
The more I focus on time passing, the older I feel; the more I focus on the present moment, the better I feel.
My experience of time
There were seven years between the awakening breakthrough I experienced in 2010 and time I left my old apartment in 2017. I lived slowly—far more slowly than is practical given the financial demands of the dominant culture. My life was an experiment in presence. If I had work at all, it was only one project at a time. I spent up to eight hours walking every day. It was awesome, for sure, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. But before you start romanticizing that, I was also broke and hungry most of the time.
It’s now been the same amount of time since I left that apartment, and by contrast, the 2017-2024 feel like they’ve gone by in a flash, maybe—perceptually—half the time I spent in the old apartment.
What changed? Back then, the combination of meditation and mindfulness, paying deep attention to everything around me, with only minimal regard to hour or day, seemed to slow my perception of time passing significantly.
On the other hand, I eventually wound up without an apartment.
In the interest of paying rent and bills on time, I’ve had to speed up my thinking as well as my work, and I’ve had to create more structure in my day. Because I’m more engaged with the outside world, I’m much more aware of time passing than I was a decade ago.
How to slow down your perception of time
Things happen as they happen, and we can only control our own actions. However, we can begin some practices and ask ourselves questions in order to slow down our perception of time.
Meditate. When I meditate for 30 minutes every morning, it appears to me that there’s more time in the day. It’s also possible to have an experience of time stopping in the middle of meditation. If you’ve never meditated before, I recommend Sharon Salzberg’s Real Happiness Challenge, an annual February event where she offers short (5-8 minute) guided meditations every day.
Spend time immersed in nature or (if you can’t) seeking out nature. Nature doesn’t care what day it is. Trees don’t strive to hit milestones or deadlines. By immersing yourself in the stillness of nature, that quiet timelessness will be mirrored in you. If you don’t have access to a park, look closely at a single flower for 15-30 minutes.
Seek out moments of awe. This is what ‘big’ nature does for us. A snow-capped mountain range snaps us into the moment. You can also find awe in examining the lines on a baby’s palm, or listening to a magnificent symphony.
Minimize clocks around you. As you’ve seen throughout this post, we need the language of time to keep ourselves oriented. We don’t need time staring us in the face, yet we all carry mini-computers with clocks. Whenever possible—which may only be occasionally—make a practice to forget time. Take off your Garmin or Fitbit, leave your phone at home and go for an unplugged walk. Notice what’s different inside you as you move through the world unhindered by time.
To the extent possible, detach from the cult of busy. Within the constraints of your job and family, try to make a practice of slowing down. If you’re a parent with active kids, Lindsay Miller, aka The Stress Nanny is a great resource for how to be mindful while juggling the kids’ soccer and piano practices. If you’re stuck in the Cult of Busy, ask yourself who is benefitting from your overwhelm. It’s not you.
One of my favourite practices is to press my hand against a juniper tree and feel the bark rough against my palm. The tree doesn’t know or care what day it is, or even what year it is. The tree is simply there. In this moment. And so am I.
Originally published January 1, 2015
Love your writing! Thank you for sharing your heart and your experience, and thank you for walking your path. Inspiring, beautiful and powerful!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!