Time. Its passage might be inevitable, but the way we experience it is not. There’s no reason we have to divide the day into seconds, minutes, and hours. This segmented concept of time is developed within our cultures. We’re not born with it; we learn it.
I can barely fathom the extent to which this notion of time must affect our psychologies. The twenty-four hour clock provides the framework for almost all our daily activities, telling us when to wake up and when to leave home, when we should go to bed and when it’s time to eat. Even with activities that aren’t explicitly scheduled, we hold somewhere in our minds an idea of “how long” we’ll be engaged, invariably measuring that “how long” in hours and minutes.
I’ve long wondered what it would be like to step outside this system, even if just for a day. With Guatemala (where I’m living) on Covid lockdown tomorrow, I think I’m going to give it a try.
The idea is simple: twenty-four hours with no clocks, no schedule, and no measuring of time. I’ll eat when I’m hungry, read until I feel like stopping, and go to bed when I’m tired.
I’m curious to see how my mind reacts. Will I relish the natural flow of moments into moments? Or will I feel tense, stressed, uneasy, robbed of that supreme organizing tool by which I normally plan my life?
In any case, it’ll be a different sort of day. I’ll report back on Monday.
No comments:
Post a Comment