Timing is everything

In ancient Greece, Pythagoras, followed by Anaxagoras and Aristotle, proposed the notion of a spherical earth. Christopher Columbus is often credited with this discovery, and his infamous voyage from Spain is celebrated yearly as an incredible achievement in the way of both science and geography (insert momentary cringe). Today, a society of passionate science-dissenters—including Duke’s very own former basketball player, Kyrie Irving—believes that the planet is flat, and meets annually to condemn the conspiracy of the sphere, fueling each other’s stubbornness and providing our friends at NASA with immense entertainment. In the face of such forward thinking (and clearly, no right answer), I stand to argue that we are all actually living inside of an hourglass.  

I am aware, of course, that the planet cannot truly be shaped like the juxtaposition of two pyramids at their tips, and that the constant rotation of the Earth—if this were actually the case—would pose serious implications to the concept of time. What I am proposing, however, in an existential-metaphysical sort of way, is the notion that timing is everything in life.

As humans and control freaks, we like to believe that we sit in the driver’s seat of time. We buy agendas, schedule our days down to the last very second, fill our bodies with as much caffeine as we can possibly digest—before our fingers begin to shake uncontrollably and our miraculous surge of energy results in a tragic yet inevitable crash—in a desperate attempt to manipulate the space-time continuum and cram all of our ambitions into 24 measly hours.  

And while sometimes we achieve this feat—after all, if Santa can pull it off, who’s to say you, an all-capable, superhuman Duke student can’t achieve the same miracle?—most of the time we emerge unsuccessful. In these moments, we become painfully aware of the fact that our experiences are happenstance, largely depending on the precise moments in which they occur.

Take Duke’s impending housing transitions, for example. As Duke busily constructs a modern sophomore dorm that is perfectly located on West Campus—with prime proximity to an all-nighter in Perkins and the symphony of opportunities that converge within the magical glass box of the Broadhead Center—I am regretfully cognizant of my position in time. I, along with much of the class of 2021, will be the last to live on Central Campus: a bus ride away from most classes, limited dining options at an immediate disposal, and eternally conflicted between trekking to the library or maximizing minutes in the dimly lit, distracted walls of a Central apartment.

Conversely, as the class of 2022 narrowly misses the chance to live on Central Campus, they forgo the tight-knit community and enduring friendships that this housing accommodation ultimately fosters. 

At the same time as I mourn my stature in life—hoping that the hourglass will filter its sand a bit slower so that I too may experience the comfort of Duke’s brand-new West Campus dorm—I also realize how extremely lucky I am to be a freshman at Duke this year, as our basketball team displays unprecedented collective talent. Every time that I set foot in Cameron Indoor, I am filled with a warm flush of excitement, my mind pulsing with the exuberant energy of the crowd. One does not truly know desire until they are pressed tightly within the student section of the stadium, arms extended into the air, fingers bouncing lightly, shooting invisible rays of luck towards our players and praying that Grayson will hit the three. Some might argue that Coach K is responsible for this once in a lifetime dream-team, and while that might be true, all signs point back to the persistent interference of Time.

As Duke students, we race through our exams, skipping over the questions that count less than others, and desperately groping for more time to perfect an essay. Deadlines are solid, seconds in the library are precious, and assignments sweep quickly through the revolving doors of our days.

I know what you’re all thinking: that’s just life. And yes, it is just life. Life is random and coincidental and defined by its ability to change. What is often overlooked, however, is that life is extremely subject to the potent force of Time, the true puppet-master in this great performance.

It is manifestly easy to feel overwhelmed by the greatness that is so commonly exuded by our peers and, subsequently, expected of each student at Duke. In these moments—when the waves of stress beat against our minds and threaten to pull us to sea—it’s helpful to remember that life is random; opportunities often arise by coincidence and are missed by pure chance.

As humans, all we can ever do is our best and we can’t accept responsibility for the forces of nature that are out of our control. Now, accepting this randomness is not to promote conformity or detachment from the issues that require our deliberate and conscious agency. We should still work tirelessly to capitalize on our minutes and excel in all areas of our lives. We should stand outside for 24 hours, in the bitter and depressing cold on the eve of the UNC game, simply because there is no guarantee our Blue Devils will see the same talent next year. We should welcome changes—like the ones transforming Duke’s residential map— as natural steps in the way of innovation. 

However, as long as we live in this hourglass—with the sifting evanescent sand ushering us quickly through our days—we must remember that we cannot prescribe every moment in life, and we are all ultimately subject to the erratic hands of time. 

Carley Lerner is a Trinity first-year. Her column runs on alternate Thursdays.