Time

My New Year’s Resolution is to be less busy. Those who know me are all too aware that my schedule is packed; any social invitation has probably less than a 50% chance of finding a place in my calendar unless I am given at least 6 weeks’ notice. Upon receiving an invitation, I find myself chanting as I open my calendar “please let this work, please let this work…” and quite often it doesn’t. Why? To start with, I volunteer – at the Institute of Modern Wisdom, at my daughter’s school and now at my Temple. That’s a lot right there – meetings, workshops, projects large and small - and a ton of associated social activities, all of which I feel privileged to participate with. And there is my daughter who each year becomes more intimate with the world, her schedule burgeoning in all directions and dimensions. And my friends, my loves, my woven web that feeds and must be fed. I have always had many different groups of friends – a finger in every pie so to speak. All delight in different ways and I don’t see any of them enough. And family. We are blessed to live within a few miles of my husband’s immediate family, with whom we gather weekly for dinner –a time held sacred, and cherished. And, most importantly, there is my time with myself – to meditate, pray, read, commune and listen to the trees. I say ‘most importantly’ because ultimately this is what holds it all together.

Travel also requires time – huge chunks of time and we do this as a family quite a lot. The urge to get on a plane is deeply engrained in each of us. We do it to step out of our busy lives – to experience somewhere completely foreign and new and for the benefit of coming home forever expanded and changed. We yearn to return to Park City again and again for the simplicity of life there. We are ‘at home’ in our little ski condo, without the busyness of home. No To Do lists, no appointments, no calendar. We have a few friends we see there and we have ample time for all of them. And we spend a lot of time doing absolutely nothing, which feels exactly like Bliss.

At home, as I navigate my day, there is barely enough time to do anything. Just a few years ago, I felt more space in the time/space continuum. Yes, I did have extra-busy days where I felt I was doing triage– attending to only those things that were crucial because that was all I had time for on that particular day or stretch of days. Now it seems I am always in triage mode. And it doesn’t suit me. I like doing things well, thoroughly, which requires careful thought, and time to think.

 I simply need more time.

I feel the Internet is quite probably the main culprit, that baby-faced bandit of time. I know more about what’s available, what’s going on in the world, about events I want to participate in. I know more people and my circle is constantly expanding due to connections through social media like Facebook. I am exposed to more art, videos, Ted Talks, music and books that I want to consume. It is literally endless. I must grow a new filtering system before the system simply crashes. And how do I do that? How do I triage my interests and desires?

I have been consciously examining my day-to-day doings and cutting the fat. No more Huffington Post, Salon or Dooce every day. I check these now about twice a week. No more daily check-ins on Facebook, for it, hands down, wins as The Largest Time-Sucking Black Hole Ever. I delete many of my emails without ever opening them and only occasionally read the Daily Om, Abraham Hicks and Tut emails that come every single day. I miss these small injections of consciousness and yet it is a relief not to have so many emails vying for my attention. When putting something into my calendar now, I do it with absolute Intention. Is it really important to be there? Crucial even? I find I say No to things I would have automatically, without thought, said Yes to in the past.

So far I have not noticed any difference in my schedule; I am as busy as ever, triaging every day. And yet. I can feel it coming – the long, slow hush of time stretching out, of hours to spend at my leisure, to feel the direction the wind is blowing, to notice the shape of my husband’s face, to do a thing slowly with quiet attention.

 

 I can hardly wait...