A Sense of Time

Trip Start Jan 05, 2011
Trip End Jan 05, 2012

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Flag of United States  , Massachusetts
Saturday, October 9, 2010

In planning this trip, I've thought a lot about the notion of time. I'm my life right now, time is something to be used, and used wisely. Every minute is part of an hour, and in every hour something has o be accomplished. That, of course, can be watching a good movie or making myself a beautiful meal for no reason other than pure enjoyment (Plating and spending over an hour on cooking just for yourself is, in my eyes, the highest form of pampering).

However, my sense of time has recently begun to shift. I guess it started when I looked up.

I'm someone who usually looks down. This is not out of any form of meekness or sub-par sense of self. It's a practical reality. I'm clumsy. I trip over thin air. I have to keep a close watch on said air to make sure it isn't plotting my imminent demise. Honestly, I don't much mind this; there is a lot to see down there. Right down my road, for example, is a tiny patch of flowers, which, in the weeks I have been here, have gone from pearly white to a bright, almost unnatural purple. I also have a keen understanding of my bedroom rug. It's an odd and slightly unappealing cream color, and I've only recently realized, after weeks of scrutiny, that it's definitely a shade or two lighter than the one in the hallway.

These little mysteries and changes seem pretty small, but they intrigue me the same way food does. It's in the details, in the minutia of life if you will. That same compulsion however drives me to look closely at time too however, and that should never be done if one wants to remain sane (note: I am not sane). Maybe it's the German blood in my veins, and maybe it's just who I am, but I compulsively lie by the clock. I arrive places at least ten, if not fifteen minutes before the appointed time and am terrified of being late. I walk fast so as to spend as little time on the move as possible and as much at my destination. I cried when my watch finally died.

I have not gotten another one since.

This is why:

I want to slow down. I know, on some deep and subconscious level, that rushing though life is a bad idea. I mean, even the sound of it is off. Why would one want to rush life. We might only get one chance at it.

It took me a while to articulate this to myself, but when I did, I decided to look up and watch the clouds.

I opened my window, lay down on my bed and just stared at them. I didn't look for any shapes, I just watched them slowly, and I mean SLOWLY, move across the sky. It was fascinating. I could feel everything in me take a big deep sigh and relax. It felt like meditating, just without the sore back and "ommm" sounds.

It was peaceful and quiet, both outside and inside my body. I didn't have to think, or stress, just ponder quietly why I had been missing out on this since childhood.

Honestly, I still can't come up with a satisfactory answer.

This happened to me about a year or two ago, but it's amazing how quickly I forgot. I found myself walking fast again, and getting places early. I was easily annoyed at people who didn't take time as seriously as I did.

Then, this morning, I watched the clouds again, and thought "what if?"

What if I can lie like this, without worrying about time, not stressing about the hours creeping by, for the entire time I'm away? What if I can create my own time, slow down to a crawl and really look. Not just down, not just up, but all around me. I want to take joy in getting there and arriving both.

So this is my goal for myself this year. To the school, I am going for food and dance. To my parents and friends, I am going because the travel-bug bit me bad, and I can't keep still, but for me, I have decided, I am going so that I can step but of time and maybe learn something there.

I think it's a pretty worthy goal.
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Eitan Herman on

I'm new in here.Your written skill is very fine.I will come back to read your next new post.Really you are nice person for blog.Sorry my English skill is not well.

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