Why Time Feels So Strange Right Now—And How to Take Control of It
From the earliest days of civilization, humans have tried to trap time—to make it tangible, something we could measure, record, and control. We carved notches into wood to track the passage of days, etched patterns into stone to mark the cycles of the moon, and later, built clocks that ruled over hours with mechanical precision. We created calendars to structure our lives, diaries to preserve our memories, and timelines to make sense of history.
But it’s not the marks we make that define time. It’s how time marks us.
We think of time as something external—something we manage and measure. But our actual experience of time is deeply personal and uneven. Some moments stretch endlessly, while others collapse and vanish. We look back at certain years as if they never happened, entire stretches of our lives condensed into a single blur, while others—single days, single minutes—remain vivid, expanding across our memories like a landscape we can still step into.
Why Time Feels Broken
We assume time moves in a straight line—steady, predictable. But that’s not how we experience it.
Time is not just something we record; it’s something our brains construct. Neurologically, time is fluid, shaped by attention, memory, and change. When we’re engaged—when our brains are absorbing new information—time stretches, expanding with the weight of details. But when life is repetitive, when days blur together without distinction, the brain condenses those experiences, storing less, compressing time into something vague and fleeting.
This is why childhood summers seemed endless—because every day was filled with firsts, and the brain captured every new detail. It’s why the early days of lockdown felt unbearably slow but now seem like a single, featureless pause—the lack of novelty meant fewer memories were recorded, making time feel as if it barely happened at all. It’s why AI, a gradual development, now seems like it appeared overnight—because our brains weren’t tracking its steady rise.
People say they’ve lost time. But time wasn’t lost. The brain simply didn’t register enough for it to feel like it was ever there.
The Illusion of Certainty
We want time to behave in a structured way. Our brains crave patterns, rhythms, and predictability because that’s how we make sense of the world. When we can anticipate what comes next, we feel in control. But when routines are disrupted—by global events, technological shifts, or personal upheaval—the brain struggles to place events in a logical sequence. Time begins to feel fragmented, chaotic.
Some people want to fast-forward through this uncertainty—skip past the economic shifts, the political dysfunction, the sense that everything is in flux—and arrive at a future that feels more settled. But time doesn’t work like that. The brain doesn’t process time through passive observation; it registers it through change.
We don’t experience time. We experience difference.
That’s why certain years vanish entirely from memory while others remain vivid—because we don’t mark time in minutes or hours, but in transformation. When nothing meaningful shifts, time erases itself.
For years, people have been waiting for time to restart. What they don’t realize is that it never actually stopped. Their brains just stopped tracking movement within it.
The Chase for Time
We are not passive travelers through time—we chase it. We try to make up for lost time, to slow it down, to hold onto fleeting moments. But the harder we try to grasp time itself, the more our brains filter it, distill it, reduce it to something smaller than it actually is.
Time isn’t defined by the marks we carve into calendars or the hours we count. It exists in the neural imprints of our experiences, in the memories our brains choose to hold onto, in the changes we undergo along the way.
The past few years have felt strange because they have disrupted our brain’s ability to track progress. But time isn’t broken. It isn’t missing. It has been happening all along, imprinting itself on us in ways we won’t fully grasp until we look back and see the shape of what it left behind.
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How to Take Back Control of Time
The key to managing time isn’t about scheduling better or working harder. It’s about understanding how our brains shape time—and using that knowledge to our advantage. There are three ways to do that:
1. Mark Progress, So Time Doesn’t Disappear
Time feels faster as we age because routine blurs our days. Novel experiences, milestones, and transitions make time feel richer and more memorable.
To counteract this:
Break Routines. New experiences—travel, hobbies, or small changes—help time feel fuller.
Mark Transitions. Acknowledge endings and beginnings to make moments distinct.
Look Back. Reflecting on past growth reinforces time’s passage.
Without markers, time compresses. Creating them ensures we don’t just pass through time—we remember it.
2. Slow Down The Moments That Matter
We don’t retain time itself—only what our brains successfully encode. The best moments often feel fleeting because we fail to fully absorb them. When we’re distracted—thinking about work on vacation or planning a response while someone speaks—our brains don’t record the experience deeply, making it feel insubstantial in hindsight.
To counteract this:
Pay Attention. Our most vivid memories come from sensory and emotional engagement. Noticing details—sounds, textures, expressions—makes moments more lasting.
Let Experiences Settle. Rushing from one thing to the next prevents memories from forming. Pausing after major events—whether a success, loss, or transition—helps anchor them.
Be Present. Studies show that those who focus on the moment, rather than anticipating the next, retain richer memories and experience time more fully.
Slowing down isn’t about stopping—it’s about making sure we feel time before moving through it.
3. Get Unstuck by Creating Movement
The hardest way to experience time is to feel like it isn’t moving. Waiting—for answers, change, or resolution—can make time feel unbearable. But waiting doesn’t have to mean wasting time.
To regain a sense of movement:
Shift Focus. If one part of life is stalled, direct your energy elsewhere. Progress in any area makes time feel active instead of stagnant.
Create Small Wins. Even minor achievements trigger momentum. If you can’t control the big picture, focus on something manageable—a task, a habit, an achievable goal.
Adjust Perspective. If the future feels overwhelming, zoom in—focus on today or this week. If the present feels exhausting, zoom out—remind yourself of the bigger arc.
When we’re stuck, we wait for time to move us forward. But time doesn’t do that. We have to move through it.