Time is the indefinite continued progress of existence and events that occur in an apparently irreversible succession from the past, through the present, into the future.
Isn’t time a funny thing?
We either have too much of it or too little of it?
We are either busy or we are bored?
We are either young or we are old?
Isn’t time an ironic thing?
I chose this theme to reflect on how we are spending our time in the new normal, but have had hardly any time all day to think, read or write.
Moreover, my inner clock is out of kilter. The clocks going back knocked me out of my routine of bed at 10pm and awaking natually at 5.30am.
I went for a nap yesterday afternoon and woke up 4 hours later, was that a waste of time or a good use of time I ask myself?
My morning ritual of a coffee on the couch, listening to the birds and writing my morning blog was knocked out of sync this morning as I woke up at a different time to my clockwork routine.
How does time define us? How does time shape us? How does time confine us?
I was brought up in a busy household. My parents are both self-employed so time equalled money. Mum and Dad worked hard, they worked long hours but they reaped the benefits of their entrepreneurial approach to life.
To do lists and diarising everything is how my sister and I have been trained for life. We are time efficient. We are highly productive. We maximise every minute of every day.
But that means that we are always busy. My electronic diary is crammed, I schedule things back to back. It is how I function.
When I used to have a paper diary my friends would tease my over my pen v pencil entries. If it was in the diary in pen, it was confirmed, it would be honoured, no better offers would knock it out of my priorities. If it was in pencil, it was more likely to be, if a loose plan could not be committed to by friends who were busier than me.
Time is precious, but it is precious for all of us. That is why I find punctuality says a lot not only about an individual’s character but also about how they regard you.
I am good at making time for other people, but I have had to teach myself how to make time for myself.
I often put ‘Hannah’ in my diary. I schedule ‘me time’. Otherwise I look at blank pages and I fill them up with things to do, places to be and people to see.
That is when busy turns into frenetic and the joy is squeezed out.
A while back I tried to remove the word busy from my vocabulary. I consciously tried to reframe the language I use about time.
My life isn’t busy, my life is full.
I am not short on time, my life is full of friends, family, trips and experiences.
Time right now is surreal. I feel like an extra on the Truman Show. I have gained time at home, I am taking advantage of this time to do things that I have been putting off for a while. I am utilising this time to connect with people, to plan things, to tidy/sort/clean the house.
When I am busy I can’t think. When I am busy I can’t stress. When I am busy I can’t worry. So right now busy is my armour.
Time can be our friend but it can also be our enemy. I am trying to keep time on my good side, playing nicely for now.