My name is Shermeeka Mason and I am a nerd.

A nerd who is a Dr. Who fan.

For those who do not know what I speak of, Dr. Who is a Science Fiction television show about an alien timelord who travels to different dimensions in the universe. From the months of March to May, I go nowhere on Friday nights. For me, Dr. Who is an event and for an hour—starting at 8:00 p.m.—I sit in front of the Sci-Fi Channel. I curl up in an armchair, watching in silent awe as the character only known as the Doctor and his companion rip through space and time, conquering the Daleks with sharp intellect, British wit and his Sonic Screwdriver.

What intrigues me the most about this incredible program, though, is the Doctor’s spaceship, the Tardis. On the outside, this machine is nothing more than a navy blue telephone booth. But its interior reveals a glowing juggernaut built with control panels and complex devices to aid the Doctor in his travels. In fact, the main character is so synchronized with this machine that he knows when it is ill, depressed or energized. The Tardis is a life of its own and the Doctor utilizes this lifeline to reach past and future destinations.

The more I analyze Dr. Who—and the concept behind the show itself—I realize something: I myself am a time traveler and my mind is the Tardis. No, I am not a 903 year old alien with a British accent nor is my mind a blue box with the word “Telephone” painted near the top. But, like the Doctor, I travel back and forth between the past and the future. In fact, we are all time travelers.

Let me explain. The average human being has 50,000 thoughts running through the brain every day. This means that from the time we rise from our beds in the morning to the moment we place our heads back on our pillows, our minds—which I call our psychological time machines—are on and running. More than likely, we are thinking about what to do next or what we should have done yesterday. As we put on our shoes and jet out of our apartments to drive to school or work, our psychological time machines (or PTM) move forward to that exam we forgot to study for. Or flashback to that verbal altercation with our former boss months before, still a little upset about that written warning we received for insubordination.

Now those are just minute examples of mild PTM, but that is not the type of time travel I want to share with you today. The PTM I refer to is the type that has kept countless time travelers—me included—caged and isolated. So much so that our daily existence has been negatively affected at one point. In his novel Einstein’s Dreams, Alan Lightman writes of a world in which every citizen is trapped in the past. The chapter called “10 May 1905” shares the story of a man talking to a friend about his days as an athlete. Even though he has long since graduated from college, this man continues to speak as if he is still playing his sport of choice. In the same passage, another individual sits in his home at the dinner table set for him and his father, who has since crossed over. Lastly, a woman stares fondly at childhood pictures of her son as he—now a drunken adult—desperately bangs on the door she refuses to acknowledge.

Though these scenarios are fictional, many time travelers are no different from the individuals mentioned. Those who live in the past allow their PTMs to crash into some part of their history and remain there. Whether the period is joyous or tragic, they rehash it over and again, letting the past to dictate their actions and their world. A mother clings onto her child’s clothing long after losing him to cancer. A Vietnam veteran is up at 2 in the morning, checking every closet, pointing a loaded gun at shadows because he swears he hears enemies he killed decades ago. A young woman refuses to remove her engagement ring because she is still in love with the fiancée who left her months prior for another woman. Yes, these cases may seem a bit much, but they all draw the same conclusion. When time travelers let the past run their lives, they experience complete isolation, usually becoming unfortunate loners so enveloped in ancient trials and glories that the rest of the world does not exist. Lightman puts it best when he quotes “Each person who gets stuck in time gets stuck alone.

Life is even less peaceful for time travelers whose PTMs are stuck in the future. Now do not misunderstand me—there is nothing wrong with preparing for something better such as a college education or the purchase of a new home. But foresight usually becomes a problem when that is where people exclusively set their intentions. Time travelers focusing primarily on the future tend to diligently work towards a specific goal and, though advised to explore other options, they do so half heartedly because they are convinced that that one career, house, car, and/or potential mate is destined to be theirs. In many cases, this mentality breeds uneasiness and impatience because their Higher Power (if they believe in one) is not moving fast enough. They become paranoid and demanding, fearing that—despite all the hard work—their wants will not come into fruition. Future stuck time travelers become even more frustrated when they act on a gut feeling, believing it to be some divine answer from that Higher entity when it is actually just their wishful thinking. The 12 Steps and 12 Traditions states that “the thoughts that seem to come from God are not answers at all. They prove to be well-intentioned unconscious rationalizations. With the best of intentions, he tends to force his own will into all sorts of situations and problems with the comfortable assurance that he is acting under God’s specific direction. Under such an illusion, he can of course create great havoc without in the least intending it.”

I cannot tell you how often I would believe that God is giving me some sort of sign of what It needs me to do, only to realize that my expectations are getting the best of me—and this is usually after I spent money I did not have or signed up for something only to find out that I have made some huge mistake. See, when those stuck in the future expect, they eventually resent if plans fall apart. In other words, these people are not happy because they are always in a state of fear: a fear of not reaching their desired goal or the fear of not knowing what is going to happen next. Either way, the time traveler whose PTM is stuck in the future is just as caged as those who live in the past.

Now, after listening to the consequences of being trapped in the past or future, you are possibly telling yourself that there has to be a better life. That another alternative has to exist to counteract what we just heard. And, my fellow time travelers, I am here to tell you.

It’s called being in the Present.

I have discovered this world after realizing how weary I’ve become from all the years of time traveling. All I do is sit down on my couch and do two steps: close my eyes and breathe. When I breathe in and out, I feel a peace wash over me from the inside out as I concentrate on the images flooding in behind darkness. And I do this until I am centered enough to face the day one minute at a time. When our PTMs are placed in the present, we time travelers are not riddled with guilt, remorse shame or paralyzing fear. I myself am not resentful due self-serving future-based prayers not being met on my time or beating my spirit to death with memories of being abused as a child. In the Present time, I am living my life. I am playing my African drum; I am reading a book from my collection; I am actively listening to friends talk. I feel the wind cupping my face with its invisible hands. Even when my PTM temporarily pulls me into past or future adventure, I do not fight it. I instead pull myself back into this present time period, breathe, and continue on my way.

As much as I love the Doctor, I know I do not want his lifestyle. Yes, he travels to many fascinating universes, helping countless others. Yet he often has this long look of contemplation and sadness on his face. The Doctor is not only constantly sparring with an evil inferior species every week, but he too has a PTM that controls his every movement or decision. But we real life time travelers do not have to live with the drama that comes with day-to-day flying to new worlds in our heads. See, when we experience the Present, we rarely think about what we can do or what we should have done differently. Our PTMs do not travel to some traumatic event or one that may come to pass and, as a result, we finally face our issues and become change agents in our lives.

In a meditation book entitled In God’s Care, the authors writes that “Each moment is precious, never to return…We’re the losers when we check out on now and live in the past or future instead.” He or she is correct in this statement; we are missing out on life when we check out to travel. No, we do not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it but why let it paralyze us? We should always plan for the future, but it makes no sense to control the outcome. So, my fellow time travelers, do yourself a favor: enjoy everything what is given to us freely and so as if you never have the chance to do it again. Yesterday is gone and we are not granted tomorrow. So I urge you to embrace the Present. Just close eyes and breathe in…breathe out.

Your spirit’s freedom depends on it.

(c)2009