My Annual Blog on My Birthday

THE HANDS OF TIME 

Today I turn 79. Every year on my birthday, I write a different kind of blog. This blog is about the human experience of time, and a birthday is a personal sense of time. The following is a memory that came back to me -- about a time when I was 12 years old.

When I was in seventh grade, we were often confined to a kind of limbo, an empty time that was called 'study hall' and still is called that today. A teacher sat in a solid oak chair at a big oak desk at the front and often leaned back in his chair so that it rested against the wall behind him. In our school, the button to ring the bells for the end of a class was located in the wall next to and behind the study hall teacher.

Just above his head was a huge round clock with a second hand that endlessly and relentlessly traveled around the circle while the minute hand barely moved. 

To a 12 year old all this was mysterious.

THE HANDS OF TIME

It was a moment out of time

even as the second hand

swept around the huge clock 

on the wall --

until its final march

to 12 on the hour -- 

the dividing line

between the end of classes 

and the beginning of the next ones

At the age of twelve

I was locked in a 'study hall'

a blank hour

when no class was scheduled

About two minutes

before the bells

most kids were starting to put 

their books together in a pile

getting them ready 

to carry to their next class

I used that time instead 

to play a kind of game

I held out my open hand

and thought

"I will make my hand into a fist."

But then I would not --

I stared at my fingers

that had not moved

and wondered...

Then again, I would look at my open hand

and say "I will make a fist,"

but this time I WOULD make a fist

It was odd

thought vs. action

what was the difference?

All this transpired

as the second hand of the gigantic clock

that hung over the master's head

was now up to the last minute

and moving 

inevitably 

toward twelve

But I had time 

to play my game again

only now I would 

NEVER make a fist

I looked at my hand 

and thought, "Make a fist"

but left my hand open

Suddenly 

someone's books

fell on the floor 

and we all jumped a bit

already on edge 

because the second hand 

was about to hit 

the top

At that moment

the teacher leaned

way back in his chair

and pressed the button on the wall

that rang the clanging bells

throughout the school

And without thinking

I looked down 

to check my open hand

but found

I had made a fist