I was on one of my lengthy walks, listening to an audiobook when a quote I’d never heard this before stopped me in my tracks:
“Truth is the daughter of time.”
This quote is attributed to Leonardo da Vinci, but it came to me through Werner Herzog. Herzog mentions it in his book The Future of Truth, and he doesn’t frame it as wisdom to admire. He treats it more like a provocation… something to sit with rather than nod along to.
That mattered to me. Because I didn’t recognize the quote. I didn’t feel clever for already knowing it. I felt interrupted by it.
And the longer I let it linger, the more it felt uncomfortably accurate.
Time as a Revealer, Not a Container
We’re surrounded by a version of truth that values speed. Quick reactions. Immediate clarity. Answers delivered in real time—or not at all.
But this line suggests something else entirely: that truth isn’t uncovered through urgency, but through duration. That it doesn’t respond well to pressure. That it needs time to form.
Most conversations about time frame it as something to manage or optimize. A resource to be spent wisely or saved aggressively. But if truth is the daughter of time, then time isn’t merely a container—it’s a collaborator.
Truth doesn’t just exist waiting to be accessed. It develops. It takes shape through repetition, reflection, and lived experience. Through returning to the same questions long after the emotional heat has cooled.
Why Rushing Feels So Convincing
Urgency has a way of masquerading as insight. It narrows the frame, simplifies the landscape, and creates the illusion of certainty.
In the moment, this can feel like truth. But certainty and truth aren’t the same thing.
Truth tends to arrive later—after we’ve had space to reconsider, to notice patterns, to recognize what persists rather than what merely reacts. It’s quieter than a hot take and slower than a headline.
That’s why so many things that feel right in the moment feel hollow later. They weren’t given enough time to become true.
Productiveness Over Productivity
This is where the idea quietly intersects with my own work.
Productivity is oriented toward immediacy. Output. Efficiency. Visible progress. It rewards what can be measured quickly.
Productiveness—the state of being productive—respects latency.
It understands that some of the most meaningful outcomes come from rhythm rather than speed. From attention given over time, not demanded all at once. From returning to the work, the practice, the question—again and again.
Truth doesn’t respond to pressure. It responds to presence.
Letting Time Do Its Job
There’s a kind of trust required here.
Trust that not knowing yet isn’t failure. That ambiguity isn’t inefficiency. That waiting isn’t wasted.
If truth is the daughter of time, then our role isn’t to extract it—it’s to make room for it. To revisit instead of refresh, reflect instead of react, and stay long enough for something deeper to surface.
Not everything needs to be decided today. Not every insight arrives on schedule. And not every truth announces itself loudly.
Some things only become clear once time has been allowed to speak.
