Back in middle school, I studied a chapter in Geography called "Latitudes and Longitudes," which covered the different time zones across the world. The text had interesting questions at the end of the chapter, which involved calculating the time taken when traveling from one country to another by an airplane and figuring out the time upon landing. I struggled with these, as I did with most subjects back then, but my dad always managed to simplify things and explain them to me, though not so patiently. Today, as my mother asked me for the time in Australia to wish her friend a Happy New Year, this lesson resurfaced.
Not long ago, in one of my usual exchanges of banter and intellectual discussion with my close friend, he remarked that at any given moment, somewhere on Earth, a sunrise or a sunset is occurring. Though not entirely sure of the technical precision of this thought, it left me contemplating the flow of time in a deeper way. A new year is marked by the Earth's orbit around the sun, apologies to the flat-earth believers who think otherwise, and the Earth's ceaseless rotation defines our day. We often grant ourselves the luxury of waiting, binding ourselves to the notion that a fresh start must be anchored to some specific moment. We tell ourselves tomorrow would be the perfect day to begin a new habit or that next Monday would be the ideal time to hit the gym. We think that the following month will be the time to revive our love for reading, and the quarter ahead will finally be the time to buckle down at work, and eventually, a new year awaits to re-factor our lives. It is, in essence, a manifestation of hope and the quiet belief that no matter how much time passes, we can always reinvent ourselves and step into the possibility of becoming better.
It is easy to think that the beginning of something new must be flawless and that we must embark on a clean slate, free from mistakes and imperfections. But perhaps the beauty of growth lies perfectly in these imperfections. The missteps, the false starts, and the moments when we stumble are the moments that shape us, offering lessons that a perfect beginning could never provide. And maybe, as we leap ahead in time, crossing time zones on a flight, or turning back the clock to reflect where we have been, we could embrace the uneven rhythm of our journey. It is in these contrasts that time reveals its deepest meaning, not as a straight line, much like the jagged boundaries of time zones, but as a tapestry of reflection and transformation.