Our confrontation with mortality—or more often, our avoidance of it—shapes our relationship with time itself. When we refuse to acknowledge our finite nature, we construct an artificially narrow temporal horizon that barely extends beyond our existence.
This temporal myopia manifests first as self-centeredness, as I’ve observed in my perception of time. Who has the time to care and think about the unborn generation when we are so consumed with fattening ourselves with immediate and momentary pleasures?
Yet this orientation is not merely a personal failing (as I have initially thought)—our economic and social systems actively reinforce it, from manufactured scarcity in marketing (‘supplies are running out!’) to the endless cycle of trending topics that come and go while demanding our immediate attention.
Consider how we engage with time: scrolling through the latest news and trends on social media and catching up with our digital networks through online reactions and comments seem more fulfilling in the short run than spending the same time in time-consuming interactions like arranging a face-to-face meetup with a friend (which often requires you to travel and spend resources) or paying full attention to a seven-year old who is starting to have questions about the world she lives in and the systems she interacts with.
The consequences of our temporal narrowness echo through generations, affecting decisions whose impacts will ripple long after we’re gone. To what end will we continue to fall into the trap of living solely for the moment while ignoring the consequences of our actions today, seven generations from now?
jessa 