The most vicious force of time is how it wears down all of the things it touches. Time, in its purest form, is the only thing that can turn mountains into dust, empires into shadows and human lives into distant reflections.
It’s time that drags its jagged surface over us, stripping away our layers one by one, first giving us shape and form, and then whittling us down until we’re just a sham of what were in years gone by. It’s a vicious, perpetual and never-ending cycle that breaks down everything it touches, even corroding the idea of eternity until it seems only seconds brief.
Whether the tools of time are wind and water or trials and tragedies, the effect is the same. Whether it’s wearing down rock or human spirit, the results are identical. Whether it’s an erosion over eons of torturous decay or a swifter spiral over a few years, the principle remains the same.
However, unlike the mountains, buildings and countless other objections that are the victims, if not the slaves, of time and its forces, we can fight back. Though our bodies decay and eventually stop, our spirits need not erode.
Yes, they are also subjected to the remorseless brutality of time and her tools, yes, they suffer and wear down under the trials and heartaches that life puts before us. But unlike objects of stone and wood, spirits can grow. They can gain knowledge from time and, even as the years strip away the layers of who we are, we can take back from those years and emerge wiser, stronger and better than ever.
After all, the greatest element of being alive isn’t that we are subject to the whims of time and fate, but that we can take back from them. Because, no matter how much life may wear us down, as long as we’re willing, we can learn and take more back than we ever put in.
It’s as if we’re stealing from time, drawing from its forces as it tries to draw from us and, though she wins in the end, we rip a million small victories from her grasp before finally succumbing to her on our final day. Though we don’t win the prize of immortality, at least not in the physical sense, we do win the prize of a long life of growth when time tried desperately to wear us down.
So let our spirits defy nature, let us shove our thumbs in the eye of time and her tools of erosion. We have the power to create beauty where there was nothing, to make mountains out of dust and to make them last for all eternity. Even if it’s a power only within the confines of our heart, it’s one I dare not forget for, at the end of the day, it is the key to our happiness, to our future and our lives.
And you’d be amazed what a few strong souls, unerroded by the years, can do in a world slowly turning to dust. It’s a beautiful thing to think about.