This theme has been brewing in my mind for a quite a while now. There's a blog post somewhere below about this text in relation to the death of Pepijn Remmers, which was a shock that was felt throughout all of the Netherlands. Here's a repeat of the translation:
All things have their season, and in their times all things pass under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.
A time to kill, and a time to heal.
A time to destroy, and a time to build.
A time to weep, and a time to laugh.
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather.
A time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.
A time to get, and a time to lose.
A time to keep, and a time to cast away.
A time to rend, and a time to sew.
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak.
A time of love, and a time of hatred.
A time of war, and a time of peace.
What has man more of his labour?
We are at moment in history where the impression of the passing of time is speeding up at exponential rates. This is caused by the exponential population growth crisis, which goes hand in hand with climate change, species extinction, ocean acidification, housing shortage, drinkwater shortage, social unrest, and the current corona pandemic. It is as if a convolution of world problems are draining rapidly, dragging down our capacity to mentally and physically deal with the possible solutions. There is simply not enough time. And we have caused these problems ourselves. Knowing this, one might think that the only possible solution is to observe and accept. To accept that we failed ourselves. That we failed our future. We cared only for the present, and we neglected the future. There is a time for now, there is a time for later. We are drowning in the now.