TIME FLIES

If you, too, feel that time is passing more quickly than it used to, that feeling is absolutely normal.

Several factors explain this sense of acceleration.

The first cause – already identified many years ago – relates to the routine that permeates adult life. The brain records new events more intensely: they become memory markers and, as such, occur mostly during childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. These periods are retrospectively seen as times of “firsts” – rich, intense, and emotionally charged. They are also times when obligations and responsibilities are still light, or lightened simply by knowing that loving adults are there to handle more serious problems.

By contrast, adult life seems more uniform, since fewer “first times” and fewer memory anchors break the routine. Hence the feeling that all weeks look alike, and that adulthood is nothing but a long repetition of the same moments, the same obligations, and the same responsibilities, which one must now manage alone.

Routine speeds up our perception of time – that is a fact. Combined with the aging of the brain, the possible slowing of cognitive capacities, and the decrease in dopamine levels, the feeling that the world is speeding up becomes even stronger.

Today’s world exacerbates the phenomenon. Our new world does not help us create memory markers – instead it floods us with a constant overload of information that is hard to escape because of the evolution of the family structure, the ultra-capitalist environment in which we live, and the dominance of the digital sphere in our lives.

The evolution of the traditional family model (in which women work) and the fragmentation of that same family structure (due to the possibility of divorce) place on women primarily (though also on versatile men) a mental load combining professional, domestic, and parental obligations.

With the brain overwhelmed, one anchors fewer deep and memorable recollections, since one must constantly move to the next task, if not manage several at the same time.

The ultra-capitalism we live in follows the same pattern, as it forces us to live at the pace of profitability: everything must go fast. In the professional sphere, a report is due yesterday even if it was requested today; emails must be answered within a so-called reasonable time frame – meaning within five minutes of receiving them. These micro-emergencies put the brain in a state of chronic stress, which, like routine, has the harmful effect of accelerating our perception of time. Body and mind switch to automatic mode, days appear as repetitive stretches of micro-stress management, and our ability to perceive our surroundings diminishes, since our whole being is occupied by the urgency of dealing with what we consider necessary and vital.

Remote work, despite its advantages, has the major drawback of blending professional and personal moments into the same space and the same time – in an infinite loop, routine-driven and full of obligations.

More broadly, ultra-capitalism breeds impatience in all of us, which we also impose on others as consumers. We binge-watch an entire season of a series in a single evening, whereas we once had to wait a week to see the next episode on television. Amazon delivers almost any object within twenty-four hours, whereas we once had to physically go to a store and/or accept that the desired item might not be available – or might not even exist. Smoked salmon, foie gras, and all kinds of fruits can now be eaten year-round if we wish, though they were once reserved for Christmas tables and were still bound by seasonality just twenty years ago. We are all guilty, every one of us, because we are spoiled and impatient children.

Thousands of daily micro-stimuli – alerts, emails, Teams messages, texts, WhatsApps (to name the most common, but we could add Signal, Telegram, Threema, and many more) – add to what we consume for “pleasure”: short videos on social media, longer videos on streaming platforms (essentially endlessly stretched series of 408 episodes) – none of which anyone remembers afterwards, and all of which drain our mental energy.

I put the word “pleasure” in quotation marks because it is less about pleasure than about mental fatigue, boredom, and escapism. Sadly, these inconsistent, forgettable “pleasures” contribute yet further to flattening our perception of time.

Material overconsumption and constant exposure to social media and streaming platforms also affect our teenagers, who have fewer opportunities than adults to anchor meaningful memories, because everything moves fast, everything is superficial, and everything is overstimulating. If your children tell you their life feels routine, that they are tired, and that time flies, it is not without reason.

Everything is interchangeable; nothing is memorable – and it’s sad.

What can be done?

The aim of the goal is to create memory markers to break the routine.

Reflect seriously on your personal priorities and avoid being overwhelmed by others’ urgencies or demands – at home or at work.

Set personal boundaries and communicate them, whether at home or at work, to reduce the micro-stress that exhausts both mind and body.

Do only one task at a time. Try to do it mindfully, not on the run.

Disable unnecessary notifications – you may discover that in the end, only one app’s notifications truly matter.

Give yourself downtime. Allow yourself the boredom that rests the mind.

Keep a journal or take photos – practices that require you to recall meaningful, pleasant, or funny moments, and help create memory markers for the future.

Go out. Go out. Go out.

Listen to your body. Exercise.

Take a walk, visit a museum, go to the cinema.

Don’t wait to organize that dinner with friends you never have time to see.

Create opportunities. Create moments. Create connection. Create joy.

Do different things.

Do things differently. Go to a museum alone, to the cinema alone, to a restaurant alone.

Do things out of desire, not obligation.

Savour. Savour. Savour.

Savour everything this damn life can offer – the smell of roasted chestnuts in the street, the chirping of birds, the beauty of a sky washed in fiery pink.

Recover your childlike soul whenever possible.

And above all, drop your phone.

Editor’s note: I know the photos you’re about to see come from a shoot that will remain a personal memory marker for me. Since it involved wrestling with these old, fussy historical costumes, I asked my soul-sister Virginie to join – she’s a costume historian, after all. So there we are at 8 am, giggling as we struggle with century-old hooks, and most importantly, making some fun memories. Let’s just say it brightened up our week a bit.