When Did Time Start Moving So Fast? A Back-to-School Reflection on Seasons, Growing Older, and Being Present

Slow down, ground, and stay present.

There is something about back-to-school season that makes me notice time.

Maybe it’s the school supplies appearing in stores. The brand new box of crayons that I just have to buy for no reason other than for the beauty of them (and the smell). The sense of a season closing and the urgency to fill every minute with something fabulous and momentous.

For so many years, August meant getting ready for another school year. I was raising three children while also living within the rhythm of the school year myself. There were schedules to organize, supplies to buy, lunches to pack, classrooms to prepare, and a hundred little things that needed to happen before that first morning.

At the time, those years didn’t feel particularly fast. Some days were long. Some weeks felt endless. There were mornings when simply getting everyone where they needed to be felt like an accomplishment. But now? My children are grown and somehow, all those school years that once stretched out ahead of us are behind me.

Sometimes I wonder: How did that happen so quickly?

The Strange Way Time Changes

As I get older, I find myself thinking about time differently. A year used to feel enormously long. Summer vacation felt blissfully endless. Christmas seemed impossibly far away. Now the seasons seem to turn almost before I have settled into them. Wasn’t it just spring? Didn't summer just begin? And yet somehow, here we are again. Another August. Another school year. Another reminder that life keeps moving whether we are paying attention to it or not. Maybe that is part of what makes midlife such an interesting place to stand. There is enough life behind us to see how quickly a decade can disappear, but hopefully there is also plenty of life ahead of us to ask an important question: How do I want to experience the time that is here now?

The Ordinary Days Were the Big Days

Looking back, I realize that many of the moments I treasure weren't extraordinary at all. They were ordinary weekdays. A combination of driving someone somewhere, making dinner then doing homework, hearing laughter from another room or outside in the yard, and bedtime rituals. At the time, I was simply living my life. I didn't know I was making memories.

Perhaps that is one of the gifts of getting older. We begin to understand that a meaningful life isn't made only from vacations, celebrations, milestones, and perfectly photographed moments. It is made from thousands of tiny ones. The cup of coffee or tea you actually sit down long enough to enjoy. Your kitty curled beside you while you read. Sunlight coming through the kitchen window. A conversation with someone you love. The first cool evening after a long summer. A song that suddenly transports you somewhere you haven't thought about in years. These moments don't announce themselves. They simply arrive. And then they are gone.

We Can't Slow Time, But We Can Notice It

I don't think the answer is to desperately try to hold onto everything. That would be exhausting and, for me, as I get older I keep forgetting things. And I don't want to spend today mourning yesterday, either. Maybe the invitation can be, or is, much simpler.

Notice.

Notice where you are.

Notice who is sitting beside you.

Notice what makes you laugh. Notice the light outside your window.

Notice the ordinary routines you might someday remember with surprising tenderness.

Notice yourself, too.

What are you enjoying lately?

What are you rushing through?

What keeps getting pushed to “someday”?

What do you want more of in this season of your life?

Being present doesn't make time move more slowly. Perhaps it makes our time feel more fully lived.

This Season Counts, Too

There is another part of growing older that I think we sometimes forget. We can become so nostalgic for earlier chapters that we overlook the one we're living. Yes, my back-to-school years with three children are behind me. Teaching elementary art is behind me too. They were busy, they were fun, they were meaningful…

But this season counts, too.

There are things I can do now that I couldn't do then. There are things I understand about myself now that took years to learn. There are dreams I haven't completed yet. Places I haven't seen. Things I haven't created. People I haven't met. There is still so much life happening right now. Maybe instead of asking only, Where did the time go? we can also ask, What will I do with the time that is here?

Reflection

Take a quiet moment today. You don't need a journal unless you want one. You don't need candles, perfect silence, or thirty uninterrupted minutes.

Just pause. Breathe. Ask yourself:

What season of life am I in right now?

What am I rushing through that I might someday miss?

What small things have been bringing me joy lately?

What deserves more of my attention?

What have I been saving for “someday”?

And finally:

How do I want to experience the time that is here now?

You don't have to make every moment meaningful. You don't have to squeeze every drop from every day. Sometimes being present simply means noticing one tiny piece of your life and thinking: I want to remember this. Because these ordinary days are becoming precious memories, too. 💜

Want to slow things down for a week?

Download my free 7-Day Presence Practice and capture one small moment you want to remember each day.

Panda Pause

Look around you and notice one small thing you want to remember about today. That's it.

No journaling. No list. Just notice it.

Take a breath and let yourself be here for it.