Standing the Test of Time

There's nothing quite as thrilling as hurtling your way through the hedgerows at 80km/h on a laneway that is scarcely bigger than the outside of your tires and wondering what lies beyond the next bend that is rapidly approaching.?Is it a tractor with a rake on the back? Is it another driver that is straddling the "middle" of the road, not paying attention??At a certain point, you have to trust your survival to that of another and, pucker-factor aside, just go for it.

Driving on the rural roads and by-ways of County Roscommon this morning, I was struck by this "hurtling towards oblivion" motion that we all possess at one time or another. We're so intent on the destination that the journey to get there becomes an impediment to get over, around, through. The faster we go, the sooner we get there, the quicker we leave, all the more quickly to return. Heard that refrain before? It's the adult version of "Are we there yet?" and it manifests itself quite clearly in the traffic we encounter.

I found myself, post-horse/donkey/kitten/cat choring with a few hours to spend before my first call and, with a quick glance at a map, decided to head to?Glinsk Castle, reportedly the last castle built in Ireland (subject to some controversy). Having fallen to ruin in the Cromwellian period, it still stands today, a husk providing testament to the former glory of its inhabitants.

It stands aloof in a cow pasture, access to its ruined interior prevented by bars threaded through the stone rudiments. But all told, it's a reminder of what once was and what our future will be. Had I brought my drone, I no doubt could've tread where only hooded crows now reside but, alas, in the bustle of getting out the door, I forgot it.

These ruins cause me to question many things: current building practices, the histories written by the victors and the losers, the rush to achieve some level of timeless greatness, etc. In the shadows of its walls, I can find myself lost in time, wondering what it is I will have to show for the life I've lived.

We may not be building on a grand scale any more. Oh, to be sure, we have the skyscrapers and buildings that far outstrip any ancient building or marvel. But these monuments of glass and steel will, unlike the stone walls of Glinsk, be reduced to nothing more than rubble, charred to the base elements of their construction, to be made back again into something else. There's nothing timeless to their creation; in fact, their time is measured in decades, not centuries.

Our lives are built around this material flow, this creation, consumption, recycling that forms the basis of most economic systems. So, too, our data is undergoing constant change. What I've created yesterday will, inevitably, bit-rot at some point in the not-so-distant future, never to be seen again. Worse still, the silent corruption of these digital memories is unstoppable in the looming flood of an AI-all-the-time approach that we find ourselves in.

When I ponder these things, I'm again left with the challenge of the legacy I leave behind:?Who am I? What have I done? What will I do to make something out of this nothing?

I suppose these are heavier thoughts for a midweek journey but, as you go about your life, be it the opening, second, or third acts, ask yourself these questions.?Put yourself in the flow of time and examine, my dear souls, what it is you wish to be known for, your "castle" that will stand the test of time.

May it ever be so.

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