Time and Perception
Mar. 16th, 2018 11:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tealinThis October, it will be ten years since the Worst Journey radio play aired and my life turned a huge corner (though I had no idea of that at the time). For whatever reason, that sounds about right – long enough for it to have taken root and grown in me to where I am today.
That means that, this September, it will have been ten years since Glen's Rapunzel was abducted and lobotomised and set on the path to becoming Tangled ... Which, again, sounds about right; a lot has happened since then for both of us, mainly good things, and the pain has subsided in accordance with the passage of time, though it is not forgotten.
But that means that it was ten years ago this February that I started at Disney, and that just is not right at all. There's no way that was ten whole years ago.
I observed at the time that the years 2010-13 felt like one year because I had neither seasons nor films by which to divide them. Noticing that it seems to work in retrospect – I can appreciate the passage of time in the other cases because the cause/effect streams continue past Disney Time, whereas Disney Time is only measured in relation to itself – leaves me feeling oddly that I've been robbed of two years, rather than having one 'year' that lasted three. Imagine I'd stayed longer ... I might have lost the perception of 15, 20 years of my life. The horror.
The ticking grows louder. I need to work on my book. The next ten years need to see the fruits of the past ten years come into the world. I don't know why I feel a deadline looming as I do, but I can't ignore it, nor do I want to. One of the great gifts of getting into polar tragedy is the constant awareness that one never knows when one's time is up, so one must make the most of it – an especially pertinent lesson on this 106th anniversary of Titus Oates' famous departure. Things must be done, and I must be doing them, while I can. Back to work.
That means that, this September, it will have been ten years since Glen's Rapunzel was abducted and lobotomised and set on the path to becoming Tangled ... Which, again, sounds about right; a lot has happened since then for both of us, mainly good things, and the pain has subsided in accordance with the passage of time, though it is not forgotten.
But that means that it was ten years ago this February that I started at Disney, and that just is not right at all. There's no way that was ten whole years ago.
I observed at the time that the years 2010-13 felt like one year because I had neither seasons nor films by which to divide them. Noticing that it seems to work in retrospect – I can appreciate the passage of time in the other cases because the cause/effect streams continue past Disney Time, whereas Disney Time is only measured in relation to itself – leaves me feeling oddly that I've been robbed of two years, rather than having one 'year' that lasted three. Imagine I'd stayed longer ... I might have lost the perception of 15, 20 years of my life. The horror.
The ticking grows louder. I need to work on my book. The next ten years need to see the fruits of the past ten years come into the world. I don't know why I feel a deadline looming as I do, but I can't ignore it, nor do I want to. One of the great gifts of getting into polar tragedy is the constant awareness that one never knows when one's time is up, so one must make the most of it – an especially pertinent lesson on this 106th anniversary of Titus Oates' famous departure. Things must be done, and I must be doing them, while I can. Back to work.
no subject
Date: 2018-04-02 06:39 pm (UTC)I hope your next ten years are pleasant and fruitful!