1996, May.

A lord asked Takuan, a Zen teacher, to suggest how he might pass the time. He felt his days very long attending his office and sitting stiffly to receive the homage of others.

Takuan wrote eight Chinese characters and gave them to the man:

Not twice this day
Inch time foot gem.
This day will not come again.
Each minute is worth a priceless gem.

Time has a funny way of getting away from you. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. It has something to do with our vision of our place in the universe. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. Each of us sees a universe in which we are the central character, the pivot around which everything revolves. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. One of the reasons that our own mortality is so hard to contemplate is that it requires imagining a world without us in it, something completely foreign to the view we've had since birth. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. The idea that things happen in the world without us is a pretty abstract one. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. It takes kids years to realize that the person playing peekaboo is really still there when they can't see them . Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. It takes adults years to realize that other people have lives even when they're not paying attention to them, and that time plods on mercilessly even when you aren't watching it. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. Those 1800 seconds spent watching Friends (mind you, I spend 1800 seconds each week on just that activity) are just as valuable as the final seconds of the 2524608000 you have in this life, or the two seconds of sudden terror at the free-fall ride when you see your life flash before your eyes. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. While I'm laughing at Chandler saying "quick.. what would Jack and Chrissy do?", there's an somebody nearby working to the bone to feed his family, there's a patient fighting for her life on the operating table, and somewhere else there's a child being born, starting his two-and-a-half odd billion seconds on this world. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. Now, you can't go through life this way, fearful at every moment that you'll waste time badly, striving to fill each second with something of import, interest at the very least. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. I've known some people who seem this vital, living every moment as if it were their last. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. But it's too hard. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. As a person with about 1.7 billion seconds left to me, the odd two or three here and there just don't seem worth it. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. You don't ever waste time: even sleeping is a vital use of it. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue. But you do spend it, every second. Each one of them. Turn on the lights, you are likely to be eaten by a grue.

Brian Warner <warner@lothar.com>