Hello again, dear readers.
In the previous chapters, I mentioned that I would write about time, and this time I wanted to keep my word. Honestly, I sometimes struggle to find topics to write about for this book. So if there's any subject you'd like me to share my thoughts on, don't forget to mention it.
So, what is time?
This is a question almost all of us have thought about at some point in our lives. We often hear that time is actually a concept created by humans. I don't want to go too deeply into the scientific side of this topic, but I still want to share my own perspective.
To me, the past, the future, and the present are not separate things. It feels as if they all exist at the same time. The "me" from yesterday is still living his moment somewhere, the "me" of today is writing these lines, and the "me" of tomorrow is busy with something I don't yet know. Maybe time is not a straight line like we think… maybe it flows in parallel.
But let's put the scientific side of this aside.
As a person grows older, a strange question comes to mind:
Why does time pass so quickly?
Days pass in the same pattern. We wake up, do our daily tasks, meet our physical needs, and go back to sleep. Life starts to feel like repetition… like a loop of identical days.
Maybe that's why time feels faster.
Sometimes we just look at the calendar and realize how quickly the days have passed. Something that felt like yesterday now seems so far away. And yet, we lived through those days without even noticing.
But what's interesting is that it wasn't like this in childhood.
Back then, days felt longer. A day would begin… and it felt like it would never end. Hours wouldn't pass, games lasted longer, and time itself seemed slower.
But now, everything is different.
A day begins… and before we realize it, it's already over.
So now I ask myself another question:
Has time really sped up, or have we just started to feel it differently?
Maybe the problem isn't time itself… maybe it's how we live it.
In childhood, everything was new to us. The things we saw for the first time, the emotions we experienced for the first time… Every moment was different. Our minds absorbed everything, remembered everything, and made those moments feel fuller. Maybe that's why time felt longer.
But now…
Most things are familiar. Days resemble each other. The same roads, the same people, the same conversations… Life goes into autopilot. We live, but sometimes we live without even realizing it.
And maybe that's why time "escapes" us.
Because as memorable moments decrease, the time we feel also seems to shrink.
The length of a day can be measured by how many moments you truly live within it. If nothing surprises you, if nothing makes you feel something different… that day disappears as if it was never truly lived.
Maybe that's the reason time feels like it's passing so fast.
We are no longer living moments… we are just passing through them.
Sometimes I stop and think…
If life passes this quickly, why do we still postpone things?
Why don't we say the things we want to say?
Why do we leave what we want to do for tomorrow?
We act as if time is endless.
But it's not.
Time is silent… but ruthless.
It does not stop, it does not return, and it does not slow down for anyone.
Maybe to understand the value of time, we need to feel it slipping away.
And maybe…
the only way to slow it down is to live each moment more deeply.
Even a simple one.
To truly taste a cup of tea while drinking it…
To genuinely listen when talking to someone you love…
To not just see the sunlight, but to feel it…
Maybe time slows down in moments like these.
Maybe what we call life… is simply the sum of these small moments.
And while we chase big things, we end up losing the most valuable ones—these small, but real moments.
Maybe time was never fast…
Maybe we just forgot how to live it.
Sometimes people say:
"It's not the right time."
Or, "There's still time."
But when I think about it, I ask myself something…
Is there really such a thing as the "right time"?
Or are we just hiding behind this phrase because we're afraid?
If we want to do something, why do we delay it?
Why do we wait for the "perfect moment" to say what we feel?
Maybe the "right moment" never comes.
Maybe that moment… is simply the one we choose.
Sometimes people think they should act only when everything is perfect—
when everything is in place, when all conditions are ideal…
But life doesn't work like that.
Very rarely is everything fully ready.
Most of the time, we either arrive too late… or never start at all.
And time… continues to pass in the meantime.
Maybe there is no "right time."
There is only the moment you decide.
Maybe the "right moment" is not something we wait for… but something we create.
Now let's look at it from another angle…
Maybe sometimes we truly are not ready.
Maybe sometimes we do need to wait.
But there is a subtle difference here:
The difference between waiting and escaping.
If waiting helps you grow—then it's right.
But if waiting comes from fear—then it's just avoidance.
And most of the time, a person can feel this themselves.
Time, however, doesn't care about that difference.
It simply flows.
It doesn't stop for our fears, nor does it wait for our decisions.
So maybe the right question is not:
"When is the right time?"
Maybe the right question is:
"When will I be ready?"
And maybe the answer is simpler than we think…
We will never be completely ready.
But despite that, the moment we take action—
that might just be the right moment for us.
As I think more about time, I understand one thing more clearly:
We cannot control time.
But we can decide how we live within it.
Maybe the meaning of life is not to stop time…
but to feel it.
Maybe living a long life is not what matters most…
but living it fully is.
Because in the end, what we will remember won't be years…
It will be moments.
A glance…
A smile…
A word…
A feeling…
And maybe our entire life… will be made up of these small fragments.
Dear reader…
If you are reading this, it means you still have time.
You can still feel.
You can still change.
You can still live.
Maybe the "right time"… is this very moment.