Illusion of time
Does time control you, or do you control time? What if you could flip the script and master it instead of being mastered by it?
If we are the masters of our own time, then we are responsible for the time we’re given and how we choose to use it. This requires a deep review of the psychology we have about what we value—more clearly, the narratives we create about how we spend our time and what those choices signify to us.
In the grand space of human history, this obsession with tracking, measuring, and controlling time is relatively new. The earliest civilizations lived by the cycles of the sun, moon, and stars. The Ancient Egyptians pioneered the sundial, dividing daylight into measurable hours, while the Babylonians introduced base-60 mathematics, which gave us the 60-minute hour and 60-second minute. What began as a way to mark the passing of time became a way to control it—and, eventually, a way to control us.
Then the Industrial Revolution introduced an entirely new way of experiencing time. Factory clocks dictated when workers arrived, ate, and left. Time became commodified, shifting from a natural rhythm to a regimented workday. With the rise of standardized time zones in the 19th century—driven by the need for synchronized train schedules—the world became hyper-coordinated. Despite these rigid structures, our experience of time remains uniquely personal—shaped by our choices, perspectives, and the meaning we assign to each passing moment.
Quantum Time
Time isn’t just a clock on the wall—it’s a perception, a construct, and, in some ways, an illusion. Classical physics treats time like an arrow: past to present to future, one straight shot.
But quantum mechanics? It throws a wrench into that. Time isn’t necessarily linear at the smallest scales. Particles exist in multiple states at once. Time can dilate, slow down, and even seemingly reverse under extreme conditions.
What does that mean for us? That the way we experience time is, in part, a construct. A psychological, cultural, and even biological illusion. Neuroscience backs this up—our perception of time is processed in multiple brain regions. The prefrontal cortex projects into the future, the hippocampus stores our past, and the basal ganglia help us measure short intervals. Athletes describe 'the zone' as time slowing down; people in flow states forget time entirely. It’s not fixed—it’s fluid. And if time is fluid, then maybe, just maybe, we have more agency over it than we think.
Perception of Time
If time is a construct, then our experience of it is shaped not just by physics but by psychology and philosophy. Throughout history, humans have built structures around time—work schedules, calendars, deadlines—yet these are flexible, human-made frameworks rather than absolute truths. Psychological theories like temporal discounting show that we instinctively value present rewards more than future ones, while mindfulness practices reveal that slowing down can stretch our perception of time. Cultural perspectives on time also vary widely; some societies see it as cyclical, others as linear. The more we explore these ideas, the more we realize time is not something that happens to us—it is something we actively create.
Language Shapes Time
We have all these phrases: that was a waste of my time, I need to make time, time flies, time is money—and speed seems to be increasingly valued as a measure of success. We can feel like we’re running out of time, a sensation that breeds stress and pressure. So in a way, we might need to break up with some of these ideas of time and approach it from a perspective that creates a feeling that we have all the time in the world.
How we speak about time shapes how we experience it. If we say we never have enough, we reinforce scarcity. But what if we started using affirmations that shift our mindset?
Try these: I have all the time I need. I am the master of my time. Time expands when I focus on what matters.
How would your life change if you truly believed these statements? If you embraced the idea that time is something you shape rather than something that happens to you?
This is what David Whyte writes about in his poem Time:
“Time is what we make of it. You can create the feeling of having all the time in the world, or no time at all.”
Redefining Time
Time Multiplies
There’s another dimension of time that cannot be overlooked: the multiplication of time when we ask for help and lean into our community or team. This is like tapping into parallel universes. Think about it—entrepreneurs, leaders, and high performers don’t succeed alone. They trust others to carry part of the load. Yet we often either manipulate and extract others' time for our gain, or we hesitate to ask, fearing we are an inconvenience. But what if the sweet spot is in the middle? What if we recognized that true collaboration expands time rather than consumes it? What if we believed that the people around us want to invest their time in us, just as we do for them?
Do Less, Mean More
This is the art of saying no. More importantly, saying no to ourselves.
SpaceX has this concept of reducing the requirements of a system until you realize you’ve reduced too many and have to add some back. Basically, you haven’t simplified enough if you haven’t had to put a few things back in.
When we struggle to choose less, it’s often because of a subconscious belief that has us more than we have it. In those moments, We have to slow down and interrogate each choice. Why can’t I let go of this one? What am I afraid of?Usually, the answer ties back to one of four somatic markers: look good, feel good, be right, or be in control.
These subconscious beliefs are often the unseen forces that sabotage what we say we want. Neuroscientifically, much of our decision-making operates below conscious awareness. The basal ganglia and limbic system store habitual behaviors and emotional responses, meaning that even when we intellectually decide to change our relationship with time, deeper neural pathways resist. The brain prioritizes familiarity and efficiency, making it easier to default to old patterns rather than carve out new ones.
Recognizing these somatic markers in real-time requires mindfulness and metacognition—essentially catching ourselves in the act of self-sabotage. By questioning whether our choices are driven by a need for validation, comfort, correctness, or control, we create space for more intentional decisions. In this way, mastering time isn’t just about managing a schedule, but about reshaping the subconscious narratives that dictate our relationship with it.
Slack
Unstructured time used to be a natural part of life. Before the digital era, moments of idleness were opportunities for curiosity and creativity. Now, our brains have been rewired to crave constant stimulation. Neuroscience shows that dopamine—the neurotransmitter responsible for motivation and reward—reinforces this addiction to busyness. Each notification, email, or task completion triggers a dopamine hit, creating a loop that makes empty time feel unnatural.
Yet, some of the greatest breakthroughs come from moments of slack. Einstein conceived his theory of relativity while daydreaming. Archimedes had his 'Eureka' moment in a bath. Slack—empty time—feels uncomfortable at first, yet it is the space where true discovery happens. It allows us to respond to pivots, underestimated projects, and shifting strategies. Most importantly, slack gives us space to be curious without the need for immediate application. It gives us room to wander and to wonder.
And when we create slack? Curiosity shows up.
The sense of curiosity that asks, How heavy is a leaf? How do you make water? That’s the part of us that time-travels, that moves beyond deadlines and stress and into the realm of possibility. To some, these questions seem like an irrelevant waste of time. But I’d argue curiosity and wonder are our superpowers. Without it, everything is ordinary and mundane, holding us back from what we’re truly capable of.
Mastering Time
Mastering time isn’t about controlling every second—it’s about shifting our relationship with it. Instead of viewing time as something we race against, we can see it as something we shape. Neuroscience and psychology confirm that time is largely a perception, meaning we have more influence over it than we think.
We master time when we:
Recognize that relationships are the fuel for time, not the thief of time—meaningful connections enhance our experience rather than diminish it.
Redefine what productivity means, focusing on meaningful progress rather than constant activity—doing less but achieving more.
Allow for slack, understanding that moments of stillness are not wasted but essential for creativity and insight.
The paradox of time mastery is that the more we let go of rigid control, the more expansive time feels. The more intentional we are with how we experience time, the less we feel at its mercy. True mastery comes not from dominating time, but from learning how to dance with it.
