Time is a construct, but since we’ve long noted certain astronomical cycles and broken up the year into twelve months, most with a comparable number of days broken down into 365 or-6 24-hour cycles, then invented calendars with pretty pictures, and clocks and watches that track and mimic said cycles, and since many of us love our gadgets, we are well aware that the sun rises, a day unfolds, the sun sets, the moon waxes and wanes, our biological clocks always hum in the background, and we find ourselves eating lunch around 12 noon and maybe trying to stay in synch with all of it.
But we don’t need time. Time without end is all we have. We might say we want more time, but we already have this endless flowing existence limited by choices, by actions and inaction, by the vicissitudes of human existence and certain biological realities that render us finite beings.
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