Time is a beast. Time is the dictator of our day. Time, as a property, is practically omnipotent. One thing it fails to be, though, is consistent.

Sure, clocks tick constantly, relentlessly, reliably. And in this way, the cold mechanics of time are certain. 

But once you venture past the borders of watches and whattimeisitrightnow.com and using time solely as a checkpoint for when you’re about to be late for class, it gets fuzzy. 

I first got invested in the fallibility of time during the pandemic. Being stuck inside with the world on pause, I, like many others, was forced to reconcile with how the days dragged.

I got through them by scrolling articles and documentaries about time for hours. Eventually, this fascination graduated to pouring through books by the giants of theoretical physics; Stephen Hawking, Richard Feynman, Brian Greene, Melba Phillips, and, of course, Albert Einstein. 

Einstein’s work is famous for a reason, though not truly well understood. After all, everyone can attribute E=mc^2 to him, but most people can’t tell you what the equation means. 

Lucky for you, dear reader, I’m here to break it down so you have something to talk about at your next pretentious dinner party. 

I couldn’t do it without the writing of Einstein himself, which was intricately adapted for the casual theorist by Alan Lightman. His work, Einstein’s Dreams, remixes Einstein’s lofty concepts into whimsical vignettes, which apply the logistics of varying time structures to fictional worlds. 

But before we get to my raving book review, we need to talk about the great mind behind it all. 

The Godfather of Time Theory

In 1905, Albert Einstein was spending his days working as a clerk in a patent office and daydreaming about metaphysics and time. 

By age 26, he developed the theory of time dilation, which states that the farther you go from Earth’s gravitational pull, the slower you experience Earth’s standard passage of time. Later, this would be proven by the atomic clocks on the International Space Station, which are 0.007 seconds behind standard “Earth clocks” for every 6 months spent in orbit. 

Following Einstein’s theory, this shift becomes more drastic the farther you venture into the stars. 

We can visualize this phenomenon by picturing a ball being dropped from the roof of a skyscraper. 

To those watching from the ground, the ball appears to be slowly drifting as it first falls through the air. Suddenly, as it comes farther down, it’s plummeting to the surface. 

An object (in this case, a ball) falls to Earth faster as it moves closer to the surface because it undergoes a gravitational shift.

Gravity directly contributes to the flow of time because time and motion are linked.

As such, this is the variable passage of time; meaning the experience of time varies based on an object or person’s positioning (and the gravitational pull associated with it). 

With a foundation of Isaac Newton’s laws of motion (an object in motion stays in motion, a force exerted on an object is equal to its mass times its acceleration, and when two objects interact, they apply forces to each other of equal magnitude and opposite direction) and Clerk Maxwell’s laws of electromagnetism (a circulating magnetic field is produced by an electric current that changes with time), Einstein asserted that time is relative to motion and position, thus coining the term “relativity.” 

Einstein believed that time stretches and contracts, rather than traveling in a straight, constant arrow. Therefore time- like space- is its own dimension. 

However, the two aren’t exclusive. His theory holds that time and space are woven together to form a four-dimensional plane known as space-time.  

In later writings, Einstein (and other theoretical physicists, like Kip Thorne and David Lewis) explored the nature of time and its hypothetical applications; chiefly time travel. They devoted years to possible logistics, complications, and benefits, inspiring many curious minds, such as that of Alan Lightman. 

Lightman’s Interpretation

In 1992, Einstein's journals were compiled into a novel, Einstein’s Dreams, by Alan Lightman, a theoretical physicist himself. The international bestseller was runner up for the 1994 L.L. Winship/PEN New England Award and has been translated into 30 languages. 

Having served on the faculty of both Harvard University and Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Lightman is an esteemed physicist, professor, entrepreneur, and writer. 

Akin to Neil deGrasse Tyson’s Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, Einstein’s Dreams summarizes Einstein’s complex theories into bite-sized stories that explore imaginary worlds with varying relationships with time. 

Consider a world where people live forever. Where they live only one day. A reality consisting of a daily time loop. A world of no memory. A world where time is fluid, fluctuating randomly. 

Lightman’s concise reimagining, coupled with interludes about Einstein’s life, implores his readers to consider the nature of time, reality, and the impact it has on our perspectives and routines. 

The Review

There’s no way around it- Lightman and Einstein’s work will break your brain. 

As Lightman cheekily points out, we rely on time to be consistent in order to establish a reassuring sense of reality. We need something to be constant. Once you call time into question, everything goes into upheaval, and Lightman uses this instability to instill casual anecdotes of wisdom. 

Between astonishingly visual descriptions that you can not only see but feel, Lightman reminds us to cherish every experience. 

For a book you can easily finish in an afternoon, Lightman’s subtle contemplation and acute attention to detail will stick with you for months.  

But once you fall down that rabbit hole, it’s hard to let go of the tangle of time theory. 

If you’re curious about space-time or are in need of a quick dose of perspective, Einstein’s Dreams should be your next read.

Or, if you’re more musically inclined, you can tune in to the 2019 off-Broadway cast recording of the Einstein’s Dreams musical. 

Score: 4 out of 5 Cyclones

My Everyday Takeaway: Whose Time is it, Anyway?

There are no guarantees for a future, and some theorists argue there is no future at all- nor past- just the moment you are currently in.

So, if all we have is now, how can we best spend this moment?

To decide that, we first have to examine how much of our enjoyment of any moment is based on the fact that (even subconsciously) we know that it will soon end. 

You savor a meal because you can see the end coming closer with each bite. You love someone completely because you know that you will someday lose them. You take pictures because the memory will pass. 

You make the most of every day because it could be the last.

Unless, of course, you believe, like the aforementioned David Lewis, that time is a tangled ball of nonsense. 

And if time is unreliable, then our judgment is easily skewed;  

“It’s a serious relationship, they’ve been together for two years.” “It wasn’t a bad drive, only three hours.” “They made us wait a whole forty minutes.” 

All of those sentiments lose their integrity without the implications of consistent time! 

On a heavier note, if you debase time completely, you can fall into the sticky trap of existential crisis. 

If time is as fickle as I (and Einstein) have claimed, what’s the point in trying to tame it?

 If it’s so fleeting, our future so unsure because of it, how can we wrangle ourselves into productivity? How can we manage to stay focused on a career or long-term goal if all those unstable hours are slipping away from us?  

It’s too easy to panic. 

Where’s the balance? Whether you’re a casual theorist or you’re determined to build a time machine, there needs to be a happy medium, or you’ll go bonkers.

So, here’s my thesis: Time, albeit a capricious master, is precious. 

Though it extends back farther than we can properly conceive and infinitely stretches beyond us (and according to some physicists, bends back and forth), it is finite for us. 

We need to treat it as such, and embrace each second.

You maintain a healthy relationship with time by using it selfishly. And, more importantly, slowly.

By wandering through nature, calling your friends and family out of the blue, collecting hobbies and passions, complimenting strangers, and trying every new thing you come across. By loving fiercely and choosing the bright side. 

You make the most of time by finding and owning every facet of joy you can find, because you never know for sure if you’ll have the chance to do it again. 

We can honor time not by obeying it, nor by trying to make it obey us, but by using it as motivation to be our best, most curious self every day. 

Perhaps you can achieve that today by reserving Einstein’s Dreams at your local library.