Tempus

“It is a paradox that every dictator has climbed to power on the ladder of free speech. Immediately on attaining power each dictator has suppressed all free speech except his own.” ~ Herbert Hoover

Contrary to what you might be thinking, I am not writing a blog on dictators. In fact, this post is not government related at all. It’s actually a post on paradoxes, time travel, and all that jolly-flipping rot.
Now at this point, you might be thinking:
“Oh boy, she’s been watching Doctor Who or something.” *facepalm*
If something remotely similar to this crossed your mind, you have my congratulations. Help yourself to a cookie.
Yep. I have been watching Doctor Who. And I’ve been enjoying it immensely.
The episode which struck me as particularly fascinating was Episode 163, “Father’s Day”. To summarize what happens, the Doctor and his companion Rose go back in time to the day her father dies. Through many mishaps, Rose accidentally triggers multiple time paradoxes not only by saving her father from his death, but also by coming in contact with the infant version of herself.
That last paradox was what struck me the most. To me, that is a simply mind-boggling concept: the same individual from separate time segments meeting and creating a completely different reality.
Yesterday, I was looking through an old photo album. Among the countless embarrassing baby photos and family vacation mug shots, I found a few pictures from a field trip to New York City when I was about nine years old.
“Okay,” you say. “It’s a field trip. What’s the big deal?”
When I looked at the photographs, it occurred to me that I took very similar pictures when I visited New York City just recently. The photos were similar in the fact that they were taken in almost exactly the same spot, but different in the fact that I am now six years older.
I wonder what was going through my mind at the time the original photos were taken.
I wonder…if the Me from back then saw the Me that I am now…
What would she think?
In my mind, looking at old photographs of yourself or of other people is like going through time. You are—in a way—interacting with that person; you see that individual and wonder what was going through their thoughts at the time.
I think that the next time I have my picture taken, I’m going to try to smile a little more genuinely. I’m going to try to convey to the viewers of that photograph that even though I have no idea who they are or what their circumstance is, I wish them well.
And who knows; maybe in a few years I’ll look back on that photo and remember what really was going on in my head. Maybe I’ll recollect this passing nod of affirmation and feel a bit more connected to the past.
That’s almost a paradox, isn’t it?
Ad astra per aspera.
~Caroline