Time is a concept most of us struggle to grasp. What is it? How is it that some days seem to feel sorter than others while others longer? It isn’t something we can hold therefore it is hard to grasp (mentally and physically).
Why is it that moments of impact (the pinnacle or heart-breaking moments that shape our lives) are etched so strongly in our memories that no matter the time that passes we can put ourselves back in that moment and relive it second by second as if it just happened? Yet, we forget the number plate of our current car, someone’s name, what we had for dinner yesterday. I could go on…
Moments of impact are so profoundly powerful (negative or positive) that they rock us to our very core, taking us to the greatest high or greatest low we will ever experience. Like the moment you find out a loved one has died or when someone proposes to you or when you get that diagnosis or when you win first division lotto or when a natural disaster doesn’t knock at your door but bursts through it.
In 12 days’ time dawn will break and it’ll be the 22nd February once more. For most of the world it’s just another day on the calendar that doesn’t attract much significance. It used to be like that for most New Zealanders, especially Cantabrians. But not anymore. It is now a date cemented in NZ’s history and in our memories. If you were in Christchurch on 22nd February 2011 I imagine it is a day full of moments of impact. The first earthquake. The first big aftershock. The second big aftershock. The moment you saw your loved ones for the first time. The moment you saw inside your house to see what devastation lay inside. The moment you realised your loved one was missing. The moment you saw the heart of our city (the Cathedral) lying broken and scattered over the pavement. It was a day of moments of impact. Different for everyone who was in Christchurch that day, forever cemented in our memory.
Although this year will mark the eighth anniversary, to me it feels as though it was only yesterday, or even early today. The emotion experienced in some of those moments of impact was so powerful that when I recall those moments the emotions come to the surface – fear, loss, grief, disbelief. No matter the time that passes, I think those emotions will always be intertwined in those memories.
In the days after the earthquake on 22nd February I wished for time to accelerate, that I could somehow just close my eyes and jump forward six or 12 months. The thought of what was to come just seemed too much to bare in those initial days. My experience was those initial days and weeks seemed to pass by so slowly. The nights seemed endless and sleep was hard to find. But then after a while time seemed to pick up speed again and returned to normal. Now, nearly eight years on I wonder where the last couple of years have gone. They seem to have just disappeared as if they were not made up of 365 (or 364 days) but many less.
Time… a concept that never changes its speed yet some days can feel as if they will never end and others like they were short. Memory… something in our minds which is filled with random things that we don’t really need to know while we forget things we do need to know and is shaped by moments of impact. Holding memories that don’t fade no matter the time that has passed. There is no winner in time vs. memory, because while both are incredibly powerful and are shaped by our moments of impact, neither really make sense.
Why is it that moments of impact (the pinnacle or heart-breaking moments that shape our lives) are etched so strongly in our memories that no matter the time that passes we can put ourselves back in that moment and relive it second by second as if it just happened? Yet, we forget the number plate of our current car, someone’s name, what we had for dinner yesterday. I could go on…
Moments of impact are so profoundly powerful (negative or positive) that they rock us to our very core, taking us to the greatest high or greatest low we will ever experience. Like the moment you find out a loved one has died or when someone proposes to you or when you get that diagnosis or when you win first division lotto or when a natural disaster doesn’t knock at your door but bursts through it.
In 12 days’ time dawn will break and it’ll be the 22nd February once more. For most of the world it’s just another day on the calendar that doesn’t attract much significance. It used to be like that for most New Zealanders, especially Cantabrians. But not anymore. It is now a date cemented in NZ’s history and in our memories. If you were in Christchurch on 22nd February 2011 I imagine it is a day full of moments of impact. The first earthquake. The first big aftershock. The second big aftershock. The moment you saw your loved ones for the first time. The moment you saw inside your house to see what devastation lay inside. The moment you realised your loved one was missing. The moment you saw the heart of our city (the Cathedral) lying broken and scattered over the pavement. It was a day of moments of impact. Different for everyone who was in Christchurch that day, forever cemented in our memory.
Although this year will mark the eighth anniversary, to me it feels as though it was only yesterday, or even early today. The emotion experienced in some of those moments of impact was so powerful that when I recall those moments the emotions come to the surface – fear, loss, grief, disbelief. No matter the time that passes, I think those emotions will always be intertwined in those memories.
In the days after the earthquake on 22nd February I wished for time to accelerate, that I could somehow just close my eyes and jump forward six or 12 months. The thought of what was to come just seemed too much to bare in those initial days. My experience was those initial days and weeks seemed to pass by so slowly. The nights seemed endless and sleep was hard to find. But then after a while time seemed to pick up speed again and returned to normal. Now, nearly eight years on I wonder where the last couple of years have gone. They seem to have just disappeared as if they were not made up of 365 (or 364 days) but many less.
Time… a concept that never changes its speed yet some days can feel as if they will never end and others like they were short. Memory… something in our minds which is filled with random things that we don’t really need to know while we forget things we do need to know and is shaped by moments of impact. Holding memories that don’t fade no matter the time that has passed. There is no winner in time vs. memory, because while both are incredibly powerful and are shaped by our moments of impact, neither really make sense.