The Clock is Ticking: Embracing Life's Finite Nature
Imagine you had a countdown clock above your head, ticking away your remaining time on Earth. How would you live differently? What choices would you make? For most of us, the absence of such a literal timer allows us to comfortably ignore life's finite nature. But what if we chose to confront this reality head-on?
This article explores two provocative questions:
- What would we do if we knew exactly how much time we had left?
- What would we pursue, even if failure was all but certain?
These aren't mere philosophical musings. They're catalysts for examining how we allocate our most precious resource – time – and how we might live more purposefully in its shadow. I am indebted to two sources for these two questions. The first one comes from the 2011 film starring Justin Timberlake, Amanda Seyfried and Cillian Murphy (the trailer for that is below - if you haven't seen it, it's a decent watch that does help us think about the purpose of time.)
The second one comes from the episode of the Lights On podcast I referenced last week with Jason Jaggard who said that most people ask the question: what would you do if you knew you would never fail? But he pushes us to consider what we would still do even if we knew we would fail. This is an interesting flip towards embracing 'failure' like we have talked about previously. In this newsletter, by exploring perspectives from philosophy and psychology, we'll uncover insights into the nature of time, our perception of it, and how awareness of our mortality can shape our decisions and actions.
As we try and steer through this complexity, we'll consider how to balance the weight of our limited existence with the joy of living, how to take meaningful risks in the face of uncertainty, and how to cultivate a life that aligns with our deepest values. We will confront the ticking clock and seek to make our limited time count.
The Philosophy of Time
The nature of time has puzzled thinkers for millennia. Ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus famously declared that one could never step into the same river twice, emphasising time's ceaseless flow. In contrast, his contemporary, Parmenides, argued for time's illusory nature, claiming that true reality was unchanging and eternal. This tension between time as flux and time as illusion has persisted throughout philosophical discourse.
St. Augustine, in his "Confessions," grappled with time's paradoxical nature. He pondered,
"What, then, is time? If no one ask of me, I know; if I wish to explain to him who asks, I know not." Aristotle
Augustine's struggle highlights the challenge of defining something so fundamental yet elusive. His reflections on the present moment as a "knife-edge" between past and future continue to influence modern thinking on time consciousness. In the modern era, Henri Bergson introduced the concept of 'duration' – a subjective experience of time distinct from clock time. Bergson argued that our inner experience of time is fluid and continuous, contrasting sharply with the discrete, measurable units of scientific time. This distinction between lived time and measured time remains crucial in understanding our relationship with temporality.
Martin Heidegger took this exploration further with his concept of 'being-towards-death'. He argued that awareness of our finite existence is crucial for living authentically. By acknowledging our mortality, Heidegger believed we could break free from societal conventions and live more genuinely. This idea of confronting mortality as a path to meaningful living isn't unique to Heidegger. The Stoic philosophers practiced 'memento mori' – reflection on one's inevitable death – as a tool for living virtuously and appreciating life's fleeting nature.
Contemporary philosopher Thomas Nagel has explored the absurdity that arises from juxtaposing (what a great word by the way!) our subjective experience of life's importance with the objective insignificance of our existence in the grand cosmic scale. This tension, Nagel argues, is fundamental to the human condition and can be a source of both despair and liberation.
The philosophical exploration of time and finitude raises profound questions about the nature of existence, the meaning we ascribe to our lives, and how we choose to live in the face of inevitable death. These questions form the backdrop against which we must navigate our daily choices and long-term aspirations.
The Psychology of Time Perception
While philosophers ponder time's nature, psychologists explore how we perceive and interact with it. Fascinatingly, our experience of time isn't constant – it can stretch or contract based on various factors. William James, one of the pioneers of psychology and actually one of the key thinkers I used to teach in my A-Level RS classes, noted that time seems to speed up as we age. Modern research has supported this observation, with several theories attempting to explain this phenomenon. One theory suggests that the novelty of experiences in youth makes time feel slower, while the routine of adulthood accelerates our perception of time's passage. Oh, to be young again and not feel like every year passed quicker than the last!
Cultural differences also play a role in time perception. Psychologist Robert Levine's research has shown significant variations in 'pace of life' across cultures, affecting how people perceive and value time. These cultural lenses significantly impact how we approach deadlines, punctuality, and life planning. Our awareness of time profoundly affects our decision-making processes. Terror Management Theory, developed by social psychologists, suggests that our awareness of death influences a wide range of our behaviours, from our cultural worldviews to our self-esteem. When reminded of our mortality, we often cling more tightly to our beliefs and values, seeking meaning in the face of our finite existence.
Another relevant concept is Temporal Construal Theory, proposed by psychologists Nira Liberman and Yaacov Trope. This theory suggests that we think about near-future events in concrete terms and distant-future events more abstractly. This explains why it's often easier to commit to a diet starting next month rather than today – the distant future feels less real and therefore less challenging. I was intrigued by this theory when I discovered it recently - it's well worth reading more about if you are as nerdy as I am!
Time also plays a crucial role in motivation and goal-setting. Psychologist Gabriele Oettingen's research on mental contrasting shows how imagining a desired future, while acknowledging present obstacles, can lead to more effective goal pursuit. This approach aligns with the idea of using our awareness of limited time as a motivational tool rather than a source of anxiety.
In Ellie Middleton's book I have referenced a few times, How To Be You, she talks about how our ideas of time are likely to be intrinsically linked to our modern, capitalist society, centred around industrialisation and control. How we split time into segments like equal seconds, minutes, hours and days may not be the only way to consider how time 'passes'. She discusses spiral time, which unlike the traditional understanding of time that it is a linear progression from past to present to future, proposes that time is cyclical and repetitive, with events and experiences repeating in a spiral pattern. Another alternative is elliptical time, which suggests that the tighter 'ends' of the ellipse go faster than the longer 'straights' of the orbit. This seems to correlate with my own experience where some things make time seem to go faster and others super slow! A third example, not mentioned in the book but definitely worth considering, is relative time, based on Einstein’s theory of relativity which introduced the idea that time is relative, and can be affected by gravity and motion. This view of time also challenges the concept of a universal time. And finally, we could consider psychological time, where it can be viewed as a psychological construct, based on our perception of it. This concept of time can be influenced by our emotions and experiences, causing time to appear to pass more quickly or slowly.
The Yerkes-Dodson law, while not specifically about time, illustrates how pressure (which often comes in the form of time constraints) affects performance. This law suggests that moderate levels of arousal lead to optimal performance, while too little or too much can be detrimental. In the context of time awareness, this implies that a healthy acknowledgment of our limited time could drive us to perform at our best. This might seem a tenuous link but if you find a law called Yerkes-Dodson, you somehow have to find a way to put it into your weekly newsletter! I do think this idea of almost a 'Goldilocks-esque' awareness of time constraints is healthy though in helping us navigate our relationship with time more effectively, balancing long-term planning with present-moment awareness and using our finite nature as a source of motivation rather than despair.
Living with a Ticking Clock
The idea of living life to the fullest in the face of limited time has spawned various cultural phenomena. Perhaps most notable is the concept of the 'bucket list', popularised by the 2007 film of the same name. A bucket list typically comprises experiences or achievements a person wants to accomplish before they 'kick the bucket'. While this can motivate people to pursue long-held dreams, it's not without critics who argue it promotes a checkbox approach to life, prioritising fleeting experiences over deeper, more meaningful pursuits.
More nuanced approaches to mortality awareness have gained traction in recent years. The 'Death Café' movement, started in 2011, facilitates gatherings where people drink tea, eat cake, and discuss death. The aim is not to be morbid, but to increase awareness of death to help people make the most of their finite lives. This approach aligns with the philosophical tradition of contemplating mortality as a means to living more fully. Psychologist Irvin Yalom has written extensively on the therapeutic value of confronting our mortality. He argues that while death anxiety is universal, it can also be a catalyst for personal growth and a more authentic life. Yalom's work echoes existentialist philosophers like Jean-Paul Sartre, who saw confronting our mortality as essential to living freely and authentically.
However, a hyper-awareness of mortality isn't without its pitfalls. Psychologists have noted that excessive contemplation of death can lead to anxiety and paralysis, the weight of life's finitude becoming overwhelming rather than motivating. The challenge, then, is to find a balance – to use our awareness of life's limits as a tool for living more meaningfully, without becoming overwhelmed by it. This balance might be achieved through practices that ground us in the present moment, such as mindfulness meditation, which has roots in Buddhist philosophy and has been extensively studied by modern psychology.
Existential psychotherapist Rollo May proposed the concept of 'existential courage' – the willingness to live fully despite the anxiety that comes with recognising our mortality. This courage involves embracing life's uncertainties and creating meaning in the face of cosmic indifference. By cultivating this existential courage and maintaining a balanced awareness of our mortality, we can potentially live more vibrant, purposeful lives. The key lies in using our finite nature not as a source of paralysis, but as a clarifying force that helps us distinguish between what truly matters and what's merely urgent or culturally prescribed.
Beyond Success and Failure: Purposeful Action in Limited Time
In our achievement-obsessed culture, it's easy to equate a life well-lived with a string of successes. I am as guilty as most with this - unless I have X amount of money coming in or have had y amount of speaking engagements, I am considering myself a failure. I have a real challenge dealing with acknowledging how far I have come on the way to where I am going. This mentality can be particularly toxic when combined with an acute awareness of our limited time. The pressure to 'make it count' can lead to anxiety, burnout, and a fear of taking risks.
Perhaps it's time to reframe the question. Instead of asking, "What if I succeed?", we might ask, "What's worth doing, regardless of the outcome?" This shift in perspective aligns with the concept of intrinsic motivation, explored by psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan. Their Self-Determination Theory suggests that activities pursued for their inherent satisfaction lead to greater well-being than those driven by external rewards or pressures. This idea resonates with the ancient Greek concept of eudaimonia, often translated as 'human flourishing' or 'wellbeing'. Aristotle argued that eudaimonia involves living virtuously and developing our potential, rather than merely accumulating pleasures or achievements. Modern positive psychologists like Martin Seligman have built on this concept, emphasising the importance of engaging in meaningful activities and cultivating personal strengths.
As we have discussed on more than one occasion, existentialist philosopher Albert Camus' myth of Sisyphus as a metaphor for the human condition, him being condemned to eternally roll a boulder up a hill only to watch it roll back down. However, Sisyphus finds meaning in embracing his fate. Camus argues that acknowledging life's inherent absurdity can paradoxically lead to a sense of freedom and purpose. In the context of our finite existence, this might mean finding value in the process of our endeavours, regardless of their ultimate outcome or legacy.
Psychologist Angela Duckworth's research on 'grit' – the combination of passion and perseverance for long-term goals – offers another perspective on purposeful action. She argues that grit, more than talent or luck, determines success. However, when combined with an awareness of our finite time, the concept of grit might be applied not just to achieving success, but to pursuing what we deem most meaningful, even in the face of likely failure.
Viktor Frankl, psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, developed logotherapy based on the idea that the primary human drive is not pleasure or power, but the pursuit of meaning. Frankl argued that we can find meaning in life even in the most dire circumstances by choosing our attitude towards suffering and by committing ourselves to a purpose greater than ourselves.
Happiness cannot be pursued; it must ensue. Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose. Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. Viktor Frankl
By integrating these perspectives, we can approach our time not as a countdown to achievement, but as an opportunity for meaningful engagement with life. This might mean pursuing projects or relationships not for their potential success or failure, but for their alignment with our deepest values and their potential for growth and contribution. In this light, the question "What would you do even if you knew you were going to fail?" becomes not a challenge to our fear of failure, but an invitation to identify what we find inherently meaningful. It's a call to action that transcends traditional notions of success and failure, focusing instead on the intrinsic value of our chosen pursuits.
Time as a Catalyst for Meaningful Risk
Recognising the finite nature of our time can be a powerful motivator for taking meaningful risks. Psychologists have identified a phenomenon known as the 'end of history illusion', where people tend to underestimate how much they will change in the future. This illusion can lead to complacency, as we assume our current state will persist indefinitely. However, confronting our mortality can shatter this illusion. Research on near-death experiences often shows significant life changes in survivors, including increased altruism and a diminished fear of death. While we can't all have near-death experiences, cultivating a keener awareness of our limited time might produce similar effects.
Psychologist Laura Carstensen's Socioemotional Selectivity Theory suggests that as people perceive their future time as limited, they prioritise emotionally meaningful goals and experiences. This shift in focus can lead to more fulfilling relationships and a greater sense of purpose in later life. Applied more broadly, this theory suggests that a conscious awareness of our finite time could help us prioritise what truly matters at any age. I have talked before about Steven Bartlett's graphic of how many days we have left (on average, I know!) really hit me hard - and most importantly, made me really think about spending more time with my 88-year-old grandma, the last of my grandparents to be alive.
The challenge then lies in balancing long-term vision with urgent action. Psychologist Philip Zimbardo offers insights into how our time orientation affects our decisions and behaviours. Zimbardo argues for a balanced time perspective, where we can draw on past experiences, enjoy the present, and plan for the future. In the context of taking meaningful risks, this might mean using our awareness of limited time to motivate action, while still maintaining a long-term vision that gives our actions coherence and direction.
Psychologist Ellen Langer's concept of 'mindfulness' offers a unique perspective on time and risk-taking. Langer argues that actively noticing new things in our environment keeps us present and alive to possibility. This heightened awareness can make time feel more expansive and encourage us to take thoughtful risks. Langer's work suggests that cultivating this type of mindfulness could lead to a richer, more engaged life. Philosopher Simone de Beauvoir's ideas on 'becoming' provide another lens through which to view time and risk. De Beauvoir argued that we are constantly in the process of creating ourselves through our choices and actions. This perspective frames risk-taking not as a series of isolated events, but as an ongoing process of self-creation. Awareness of our finite time, then, becomes a motivator to actively shape our lives rather than passively letting time pass.
One more theory I am keen to present here is from sociologist Zygmunt Bauman with their concept of 'liquid modernity', which offers ideas into how our relationship with time affects risk-taking. Bauman argues that in our fast-paced evolving world, long-term planning has become increasingly difficult. This uncertainty can paralyse us, but it can also free us to take meaningful risks in the present moment, knowing that the future is inherently unpredictable. We should view time not as a dwindling resource to be hoarded, but as a fluid medium for exploration and growth. Our awareness of life's temporal or temporary nature can inspire us to engage more fully with the present, actively shape our identities, and navigate uncertainty with resilience. We can then take risks that align with our values, embracing the inherent unpredictability of life while still striving to create meaning and purpose.
Navigating Societal Expectations and Personal Time Perspectives
Our approach to time is inevitably influenced by societal expectations and cultural norms. Many cultures have ingrained ideas about the 'right' timeline for major life events – when to start a career, get married, have children, or retire. These expectations can create pressure and anxiety, particularly when our personal timelines don't align with societal norms. Philip Zimbardo's research on time perspective mentioned earlier highlights how cultural differences in time orientation can profoundly impact behaviour and decision-making. Some cultures are more past-oriented, others future-focused, and some emphasise living in the present. Understanding these cultural influences can help us critically examine our own time perspective and make more conscious choices about how we relate to time. Challenging societal norms requires courage and self-reflection. It involves asking ourselves whether we're making choices based on genuine personal values or simply following a predetermined script. This doesn't mean rejecting all societal norms, but rather consciously choosing which to accept and which to question.
Jean-Paul Sartre's concept of 'bad faith' is relevant here. Bad faith, according to Sartre, involves denying our fundamental freedom and responsibility to make choices. In the context of time, this might mean blindly adhering to societal timelines without questioning whether they align with our personal values and aspirations. Developing a personal philosophy of time involves integrating insights from various psychological and philosophical perspectives. It might draw on mindfulness practices that emphasise present-moment awareness, future-oriented goal-setting techniques that align with our values and reflective practices that help us learn from our past without being overly determined by it.
So, what does this mean for us in today's society and how can we actually do anything about it in 2024?
Translating philosophical insights and psychological theories into daily practice requires thoughtful strategies. Here are some approaches, grounded in research and theory, for living more meaningfully with an awareness of our finite time:
- Time Auditing - Regularly assess how you spend your time. This practice can reveal discrepancies between stated priorities and actual behaviour. Psychologist Laura King's research on 'possible selves' suggests that aligning our actions with our ideal self-concept leads to greater wellbeing.
- Values Clarification - Spend time clarifying your core values. Tools like the Values in Action (VIA) Character Strengths survey, developed by positive psychologists, can be a helpful starting point. This aligns with existentialist ideas about creating personal meaning and authenticity.
- Memento Mori Practices - Regular reminders of our mortality, inspired by Stoic philosophy, can be powerful motivators. Modern adaptations might include setting a daily phone reminder with the question, "If this was your last year, would you be satisfied with how you're living?"
- Legacy Projects - Engage in activities that extend beyond your own life, connecting you to a larger purpose. This idea resonates with Erik Erikson's psychosocial stage of 'generativity' and can provide a sense of meaning and continuity. Is there a care home you can visit or a playgroup you can volunteer at?
- Embracing Productive Discomfort - Make a habit of stepping out of your comfort zone in ways that align with your values. This practice is supported by research on post-traumatic growth and resilience. It's not supposed to be comfortable - that's the point! Embrace it anyway.
- Mindful Time Management - Use techniques like 'time-boxing' to ensure important but non-urgent activities aren't crowded out by daily urgencies. This approach is informed by Stephen Covey's work on prioritisation and aligns with existentialist ideas about making conscious choices.
- Regular Life Reviews - Institute a practice of periodically reviewing your life's direction. This aligns with the 'examined life' we have looked at before and is supported by research on the benefits of self-reflection. Indeed, in Lanzarote, I am doing just this!
- Cultivate Present-Moment Awareness - Practices like meditation can help foster greater appreciation for the here and now. This is supported by extensive research and aligns with philosophical ideas about the nature of time and consciousness. There must be a reason every ancient society made this part of their daily routine, eh?
These strategies aim to balance our awareness of life's finitude with a focus on meaningful living in the present. They draw on both ancient wisdom and modern research, offering a holistic approach to navigating our relationship with time and mortality. We have to remember that our subjective experience of time often differs from its objective measurement, influencing our perception of life's duration and meaning. Understanding this can help us navigate our relationship with time more consciously. Developing a personal philosophy of time can help us work with (or beyond) societal expectations and live more authentically.
As we grapple with our finite nature, we're confronted with both the weight of our mortality and the incredible potential of each moment. The ticking clock doesn't need to be a source of anxiety, but rather a clarion call to live with greater intention and purpose. Throughout this article, we've seen how philosophical insights and psychological research can inform our understanding of time and guide us towards more meaningful lives. From the ancient Stoics to modern positive psychologists, thinkers have long recognised the transformative power of confronting our mortality. So, perhaps the most profound question we can ask ourselves is not "What would I do if I knew I couldn't fail?" but rather, "What is so important to me that I would pursue it even if failure were guaranteed?" This shift in perspective encourages us to focus on intrinsic motivation and personal values rather than external measures of success. In embracing this way of thinking, we move from a mindset of scarcity and anxiety about time to one of purposeful engagement with it. We acknowledge that our time is limited, yes, but also that each moment brims with the potential for significance, connection, and impact. So, as the clock ticks on, let us not merely count the hours, but make the hours count. Let us pursue lives of purpose, take meaningful risks, and strive to leave the world a little better than we found it. In doing so, we not only enrich our own brief existence but contribute to a legacy that extends far beyond our allotted time. In the end, the question isn't just how much time we have, but how we choose to live within the time we're given. How will you write your story in the face of life's beautiful, terrible finitude?
Further Reading
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