Suspended Time

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

Annie Dillard

One of the things I’ve always loved about those quiet days between Christmas and New Year is how life slows down. Now I have a toddler, spacious afternoons watching movies or reading books are gone. But this year, I still enjoyed the general absence of rush, putting aside my to-do list, and afternoons eating cake with family and friends.

Two weeks ago, when the final day of the holidays came round, I felt an edginess land in my body: a tightness in my jaw and my stomach, in anticipation of life’s routines and commitments once again encroaching.

The question I found myself asking was, how could I sustain that easeful, floating feeling I’d experienced, and carry it with me into the new year?

Carry it with me as I juggle the multiple balls of looking after all the various people in my life (not least the 3-year-old!), working, plus dealing with life’s eternal reams of admin. As well as looking after myself, by carving out some space for what nourishes me, such as moving my body or connecting with my friends.

To be honest, I don’t always find it easy. Often, I’ll feel harried, and will tell myself aren’t enough hours in the day. Which I know isn’t helpful. And also kind of ridiculous, given life is short and precious. When I’m on my deathbed, I’m certain I won’t be regretting the emails I forgot to answer and the fact that the door handle my son trashed never got fixed.

And yet, this thought that time is always running away is a pretty ingrained one. An insidious one that I know I’m not alone in experiencing: a by-product of a culture that has taught us every minute ought to be used productively, and the more you do, the more valuable you are.

There are a few practices that help me mitigate this tendency:

One is to bring my full attention to whatever it is I’m doing, including when it’s something as exciting as scrubbing potatoes or folding the laundry. I’ll try and engage with it as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered, rather than mentally fast-forwarding to the next thing on my list.

I’m also trying to be less ambitious with what I aim to do on any one day: putting five things on the list, instead of fifteen. And taking uninterrupted pauses between bouts of activity, such a few minutes to drink a cup of tea, or read an interesting article, which helps create the sense that time is bountiful rather than in short supply.

Something I’ve also added in this year, is a phrase to anchor me. I asked myself what quality I wanted to bring into my life in 2022. What came up was JOYFUL EXPLORATION: to experience life through a more curious and exploratory lens, rather than being overly focused on getting things done and ticking off goals, be they big or small ones.

Because deep-down I know that how I feel each day is far more important than how much stuff I get done.

When I get strung-out, I’m trying to remember to silently repeat the phrase JOYFUL EXPLORATION a few times. Words are powerful, and on hearing these, I immediately sense something in me settle and soften.

Of course, like anything this a practice: one of getting caught up again and again in the busyness, and the feeling of lack around time. Then realizing, and unhooking. And like any practice, the more we do it, the more it seeds itself inside us, and helps rewire our default patterning and create a different reality.

If you have any tips of your own for creating a better relationship to time, I would love to hear them! And do you too have a word or a phrase that’s helping you to navigate 2022?