This week, a new ferry company took over operations of the public ferry service that so many of our islanders depend upon to access the mainland. While there are some notable differences from the previous operator, perhaps the most significant difference is the travel time. The previous operator had a standard plan to idle down in the slow/no wake zones, and then throttle up for the rest of the way, with a typical travel time of approximately 45 minutes. The new provider seems intent to cruise at a much slower yet steady speed, which is more fuel-efficient but will result in travel times that can range from 60-90 minutes depending upon the strength and direction of the tides. As the saying goes, time is money, and the question in the minds of some is, “can I afford the cost?”
We all have a relationship with time that is simultaneously simple and complex, and our understanding of that relationship can weigh heavily on how we experience this journey called life (and smaller journeys like ferry rides). None of us lives our life other than chronologically, with each second following the one before. We don’t get to skip ahead, and neither can we rewind it. That which took place yesterday is referred to as the past, precisely because that moment has passed us and cannot be relived, and we will never have the opportunity to live in a day called tomorrow. We have to live in today, in each second, for that is where life happens.
While the comment above about tomorrow is technically true (think about the sign in the restaurant that says “free dinner tomorrow”), what can also be truthfully said about tomorrow is that it is promised to no one. We have to live in each second because there is no promise of another. Yes, we expect to have more time, and yes, we make all sorts of plans that are based on that expectation, but none of us knows how many more times our hearts will beat. We recognize that, as each day passes, we are one day closer to that final day, but that isn’t the sort of thing that we tend to dwell on. Instead, our assumption tends to be that, just as we know the sun will rise tomorrow, so will we. Tomorrow isn’t promised, but we presume that we will have it.
Where the issue of time begins to get complex (other than metaphysically, which is an entirely different, yet fascinating conversation), is when these two simple aspects of time roll into our own hopes and dreams for life. Let’s face it, for anyone who has ever had a commute of any length, whether it is on foot, in a car, in a bus, on a train, or on a boat, the idea of having to spend a chunk of time to get to a place where you had to be (as opposed to want to be) is less than pleasant. We know that we will never get that time back, and we are concerned that we will look back on our lives later and lament the time spent travelling. This is where the notion of time being money becomes apparent, and some with means begin looking at alternatives to commute times (helicopters are nice!). For those of us who live on this bridgeless island, the simplest approach is to spend as few days as possible riding a boat.
Inevitably, we will all find ourselves spending a chunk of time doing something that we don’t want to do, to be able to do something that we either have to do, or want to do. For us here on the island, that means that we will be on the boat, regardless of how slow or fast it is going. The rules of time still apply, forcing us to live in the moment with no promise of tomorrow. So what do we do? Personally, I’ve found that by investing that time either in others (having conversations and strengthening relationships) or in myself (reading or doing some work), I can come away from a ferry ride better than I was before the ride began. But there is another option that can be equally productive, which is to gaze out at the beauty that surrounds the boat, looking for dolphin, taking in the various hues and shades in the marshes, marveling at the waves, and generally being reminded of God’s power as a creator.
No, we don’t get the time of a ferry ride back, and we can’t simply fast-forward our way through it. We can, however, use that time to live. While it might seem strange, we might even be able to look back at the time spent getting from one place to another and find that it was the most beneficial time of our day.
Peace and blessings – Pastor Aaron