The Hands of Time

Unflinching Look at Presence and Freedom

The Hands of Time: An Unflinching Look at Presence and Freedom

We’ve all felt it… the weekend that vanishes in a flash, the year that slips through our fingers. The older we get, the faster time seems to move… a relentless paradox that leaves us feeling like we’re always playing catch-up. But what if the problem isn’t time itself, but our perception of it?

I probably understand this more deeply than most. I’ve experienced two very different types of “prisons”: the finite, predictable confinement of criminal custody, and the endless, indefinite limbo of immigration detention. In both, I discovered a profound insight: we don’t just lose time, we lose presence.

In criminal custody, time was a countdown. Every day marked off the calendar brought me closer to freedom. I obsessed over ways to speed it up, essentially wishing away large parts of my life.

In immigration detention, with no end in sight, time became a different kind of thief. It didn’t crawl… it flew. Days bleed into one another, leaving me numb, blurred, and disoriented.

What I’ve learned is that you must constantly re-adjust your sails. What worked yesterday may not work today, and what works today might not work tomorrow.

The real shackles aren’t the constraints of time… they’re our passive drift through it. Think about this: when you’re five, a year is 20% of your life. At fifty, it’s just 2%. The months are identical in length, but our experience of them changes dramatically. No wonder going from 50 to 51 feels like a drop in the ocean compared to going from 5 to 6.

The solution isn’t to try to stop the clock… it’s to step into presence.

Making Every Moment Count

I’ve been experimenting with a simple but powerful strategy to fight temporal drift: I divide my day into three eight-hour “days.” By consciously living from morning to lunch, lunch to dinner, and dinner to sleep, I expand awareness and make time stretch instead of slip away unnoticed.

Day One: Morning to Lunch: Mindset & Energy
This is my time to myself… gym, boxing, reading over breakfast, setting intentions. By treating these hours as a complete day in themselves, they gain weight and meaning.

Day Two: Lunch to Dinner: Work & Purpose
This is my work block. I don’t just go through the motions; I show up with intention. Even routine tasks shift when I see them as a contained chapter rather than the whole book. When this block ends, it’s like closing a door behind me… I’ve done my work, and the next day awaits.

Day Three: Dinner to Bed: Connection & Growth
This is time for relationships and reflection. It’s not about grand gestures but being present: conversations, laughter with my girlfriend or daughter or family members, movies, TV shows but essentially being present to enjoy it… bye bye to doom scrolling endlessly. Closing the cycle with gratitude ensures the day leaves a mark rather than dissolving in distraction.

This practice is my antidote to despair. It’s easy to let days blur into nothing, but when I actively write, train, and connect, the hours expand. Muhammad Ali captured it best: “Don’t count the days, make the days count.”

That, to me, is freedom. Not an external state, but an internal one. It’s taking action, creating meaning, and refusing to let life be defined by a ticking clock.

The hands of time will never stop. I can’t slow them down, but I can choose how I meet them. I can be shackled by distraction and despair… or unshackled by presence, persistence, and purpose. The greater triumph isn’t in stopping the clock… it’s in living so fully that the clock no longer frightens me. Time isn’t my enemy; it’s my gift. The question is: how will you choose to use it?

Stay Unshackled, My Friends,

Stephen

Disclaimer

As most of you know, I’m currently in Immigration Detention. Any mentoring or support I offer… whether to my fellow detainees or to people beyond these walls… is given freely, with no charge attached. I don’t accept payment for mentoring, whilst I am in custody. The real “reward” is seeing the effort the lads put into becoming the best versions of themselves. My commitment is simple: that anyone I work with here leaves stronger, wiser, and better than they came in. That’s the whole point of rehabilitation, isn’t it?

Now, a quick note for clarity. While voluntary donations (mostly from family and friends) sometimes come in through this writing platform to help me get by, they’re never expected, never required, and never a condition for access. Everything I share… words, support, encouragement… is available to everyone, with or without a donation.