On Timing

“Time is an illusion, timing is an art.”

Stefan Emunds

How did you feel when the school year was coming to a close and it was time for the goodbyes and the embraces? When the plane was about to take off and you could look through the window after spending times of wonder over there, when it was your last day of work and you barely had realized how you had so keenly bonded with your colleagues, when the time had come for you to give back the keys to your house — how did you feel when it was time to leave?

Certainly, the exhilaration of new ventures coming ahead must have prevailed in those very moments, for otherwise your being would’ve remained stuck there, in this uncanny place filled with nostalgia and bittersweet feelings. At times, it also occurs as the only option available. Indeed, it seems so elementary to get caught up in our technology-driven world. Twirling, incessantly — the planet we found ourselves on. Interminable gazes, the perpetual echo of modern-age machinery, the back-and-forth mobility of the people. Unstoppable is the definition of time. Time flies, as the saying goes.

As I boarded on the infamous cross-channel railway a few years ago, with a strangely light suitcase by my side, I felt a sense of excitement and eagerness. The last final straw had passed. At last, I was leaving behind nineteen years of troublesome experiences. I was fleeing this city which for so long I had believed I cherished. I was taking off with all the scars inflicted by what I had endured. In that respect, it was the easiest goodbye I had ever had to make, the easiest chapter that I was closing. For the first time, I could let go, peacefully, without any remorse or sentimentality.

Paris, Aug. 2019, GC

**

“There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or simply close it.”

Shannon L. Alder

Yet, what happens when the sky gets brighter? Everything is not so wretched, hope is restored and life seems to finally make sense.

It’s like the blooming of the flowers after spring’s arrival in March. Our mindset seems to have shifted. A newborn focus emerges. Novel opportunities arise. One becomes aware of the possibility of change, of the promise of freshness. Perhaps, it is in fact in all of that resides the definition of change itself.

***

This epiphany came forth around that time last year. Once more, it had hit me unexpectedly hard and I perceived my life as if it was all in shambles. After some time, for we say that time heals all wounds, my observations seemed to get clearer again and I lingeringly recovered. I had become aware that, although I had just gone through some grim times, this place had granted me with countless more opportunities than my home country ever had. I had gone back to ‘normal’. The feeling of belonging had returned to me. And yet, I realized that I still wanted to leave. I was feeling utter joy reminiscing the last years in this city, and sometimes an ounce of nostalgia too whilst walking past some memorable places. Nonetheless, I felt ready to leave it all behind. Leaving behind the delightful encounters, the familiar rainy streets and all of the memories. When I thought about it, it had been a rosy-painted time all along living there. I was ready to let go. It was the time, and it was about time as well.

After a while, I did. I packed my many more suitcases and left. It was a leap into the unknown for one who had always had such a hard time saying goodbye to people, places and even things. There was no grand wave of nostalgia hitting me, as I had expected, and barely any tears.

There was only the reminiscence of elating moments, the rejoicing of upcoming reunions, and the trusting that time is our ally.

Time heals the wounds and clears the mind. And thus, timing is fate in disguise.

For, only time will tell, timing shall, in the end, connect all the dots.

do you trust in perfect timing?

Lost in my mind. Rüfüs du Sol.

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