Don't Cry Over Spoiled Milk

March 3, 2023

Author: Deepa Ramesh

Editor: Tabitha Dickinson


Time is like a series of clouds dappled across the endless sky. Whether angelic white or stormy grey, they remain omnipresent — observing our every move, breath, and step with unwavering attention. But as the currents ebb and flow, so too does our landscape. The hands of a clock continually twist and turn, always searching for a new destination.

There is no standard currency or set of laws that govern time; other than that it remains unequivocally equal for everyone. You could be a pianist at Carnegie Hall or a florist selling sweet-smelling bouquets. There will be moments of blinding beauty — until the popping keys descend and honeyed flowers wither.

As children, time stood by our side as a beacon of promise. The prospect of change, of growing from rompers into lacey, seraphic dresses, of exploring a world with newfound opportunities dangling from every alcove like goldenrod chains, was all too exhilarating. We sought to kiss the memories of the past goodbye and look ahead toward a brighter future. Mishaps along the way never amounted to a be-all and end-all situation. In many ways, life was as blissful as the vibrant silhouettes of Mario and Luigi on our television screens. You find wonder in the littlest things, stomp on a couple of Goombas — and if you fail, you can always try again. The game is never over.

Unfortunately, life has no rewind button. Time isn’t some sort of boomerang, its linear nature is rigid and unforgiving. And as adults, we are all too aware that opportunities left undiscovered may never reappear again. It’s a message etched in both our minds and hearts.

Therefore, we seek immediacy to a fault. As students, we strive to finish our homework assignments in the shortest possible time. If our line of thought is meandering down hallways of incorrect answers, we become furious and frustrated. Similarly, we are constantly told that the years spent in college are a blessing, for someday, we will look back on them as the happiest moments of our lives. That’s why we plunge so deeply into relentless quests of pleasure-seeking, whether tossing around majors until we stumble upon something that piques our interests or attending as many parties as we can until our dance moves or vocal cords give out. 

As I write these words with my watch ticking in tandem with my heartbeat, there is still one question constantly needling me: what if our fear of time’s passage is stopping us from living? 

Time may be a reminder of what could be lost, but time also mends the wounds we never believed would fully recover. Time provides us with the ideas and stories that cause us to leap out of our beds every morning with sanguine smiles. Time welcomes kindred spirits into our orbits which will transform our souls for the better. And most of all, time allows us to unabashedly enjoy the beautiful world we have created for ourselves.

There will always be glasses of spoiled milk, of bottled-up regrets and anxieties threatening to spill over. However, time is an elusive dimension out of our control, so why fear it?

I will admit that living in the present is probably as difficult as spelling the word “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” but what makes it rewarding is that it places the value of life into your own hands. If you don’t cry over spoiled milk and choose to live in the now, looking forward rather than over your shoulder, you’ll find that things appear less forced, you’ll have more patience to take on challenges, and you’ll be stronger and wiser.

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