“Why does time go faster as you get older?” I asked Google one day last week when my death angst was particularly high, hoping that there would be some kind of dietary supplement I could take to counteract the feeling that the lifes’ speedometer is pushing the boundaries of the laws of physics.
The answer I found was simple. Pretty much as simple as the idea of a magnesium tablet, but equally hard to chew down. The reason why so many adults start experiencing time whizzing by, is simply that we have become boring. A slightly longer explanation is that the older you get, the more boring adulting things you do, and the fewer new experiences you have.
A few days after discovering this disturbing information, I made a small book order. Micael Dahlen’s book “Chaosology” was one of them. And it must have been God’s work that this book ended up in my hands just when it did. Because in the first chapter, I encountered the concept of the “Life Blur”.
“Life Blur” is Micael’s own term for when life speeds by so fast that it becomes blurry. So, in other words, a sibling term to death anxiety. “Chaosology” provided the same solution to my problem as Google did:
You have become boring, you need to do new memorable things.
However, the book also offered another theory as to why it can feel like the gas pedal have been nailed to the floor. The theory is that it’s the fault of the so called life puzzle, which every adult have to carefully lay in place so as not to have their whole life burst into flames. When I read that, I celebrated my win too early, thinking to myself that I do not engage in that kind of thing.
Or do I?
I do. It comes with being an adult. Think of life as a blank puzzle, with pieces on witch you can draw what ever you like. The more dull and meaningless little puzzle pieces we draw and try to put together, the more our perception of time shrinks. We’re also left with less space for puzzle pieces that are actually exciting and meaningful. So the brain is like; “A new piece to the puzzle of life, how fun! Oh, okey it’s the same one we’ve already added 5 000 times before, never mind, maybe there is something fun happening on instagram so I’ll just…”
Straight down into the memory shredder it goes. I can’t remember if I emptied the dishwasher last Wednesday, and I can’t recall when I went grocery shopping any random week in February. And thank godness for that. This puzzling of everyday tasks is not what I want to find in my memory bank when I’m on my deathbed, looking back on my life. One can often wonder how many vodka shots evolution had before it fused together the human brain. Even so, this particular function may be something to be grateful for. When we look back, we are saved from having to to relive all the boring crap we do, day after day.
This everyday boredom devours everything in its path. Much like a black hole. Time disappears as bizarrely silent as when the Titanic sailed down to the bottom, while you’re stuck behind an iron gate barricaded by piles of laundry, bills bills bills, and a mountain of dishes.
This fact inevitably leads to the ultimate death anxiety question:
When I’m at the end of my timeline and take a look at the life I have lived, how many black holes will I see?
So, if you have any tips on minerals or some highly potent Japanese herbs that can help with this sort of thing, perhaps from some inaccessible and magical mountain slope behind a door behind a waterfall, please feel free to message me the coordinates.