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Biological Time

Electronic time is what your watch keeps.


Biological time is what your body keeps.


We move about the world in electronic time.


We grow in biological time.


Electronic time is easy to measure.


Biological time is hard to see.


Electronic time ticks.


Biological time leaps.


A few weeks ago I wrote a post about the value of old friends.


Something quite beautiful about being able to see someone you know after not seeing them for a while—perhaps even a significant while—is that you get to witness the effect of biological time.


It's so interesting how much of our days are driven by the effects of electronic time.


Meetings, school bells, work shift starting, flights departing.


Yet, when we take a measure of our life, it's only biological time that seems to matter.


When you reflect on how much you've changed in the past year, or past five years, you're really reflecting on what biological time has done.


I've been thinking about these two concepts lately and how they relate to the idea of change.


Since so much of what we do is driven by electronic time, I wonder if we expect ourselves to change at the pace of electronic time.


Electronic time is everywhere.


Just pause your reading for a second and count the number of places where you're able to tell the time without having to move.


I count three as I write this sentence.


We mustn't blame ourselves for thinking that we should change faster than we can. We're constantly bathing in electronic time!


Biological time is often slower, and far more significant.


Electronic time repeats.


Biological time compounds.


We don't change at the pace of electronic time.


We change at the pace of biological time.


forest green background with a gradient of a person moving from left to right

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