To live in time means to accept that every moment is borrowed. The present is not a place—it is a verb. It is always leaving, always arriving. And we, suspended in its middle, are given the strange, beautiful task of noticing.
We live in time like fish live in water: so immersed that we forget it exists until we surface for air. And yet, time is the only currency we truly spend. Not money, not love, not energy—those are just shapes time takes as it passes through us.
We live in time. And time, briefly, lives in us.
The Spanish phrase is elegant in its simplicity. Vivimos en el tiempo . Not "we live through time" or "we live with time." We live inside it. Time is not a river we cross; it is the current we breathe. It is the architecture of every goodbye, the scaffolding of every hello.
Morning light stretches across the kitchen floor. A coffee cup empties. A child grows three centimeters without anyone noticing. These are not metaphors for time. They are time.
|