On Time

A lot of these months, more than four now, during the pandemic I have spent in some sort of contemplation about time or in some sort of confrontation with time. There are two very distinct camps in this pandemic. Those who have lots of time on their hands for various reasons (usually sadly because of being laid off or furloughed during the pandemic) and those who don’t have enough hours in a day (because of added responsibilities from work, child care, other family care responsibilities).

Honestly this is really an issue of quantitative time; what are you doing or going to do with the 24 hours in a single day? A lot of the issues revolve around quantitative time:

• How long will it take you to respond to an email? (Maybe if I send three you will respond more quickly? Seriously stop doing this if you do this)

• Are the assignments going to be handed in on time?

• How much time should I have for the test?

• How much time should I spend washing my hands?

• What time will the grocery delivery come?

• How long will I have to stand in line?

• What 10minute time slot should I book at the library?

• What time should I give my pet their medications?

• How long should I wait until seeing people again?

• When is that next Zoom meeting?

• Do you have time for a 15 minute phone call?

• When can I expect that document?

• When will we have a vaccine? 

All of it quantitative time problems. All of it negotiating a finite amount of time that we often can’t control and others want to control for us. Or finite amounts of time we need to be aware of for our safety and the safety of others.

None of this is qualitative time. None. Zero.

This morning I didn’t need to get up early because it’s a work on my own things day. But I did wake up early. Why? Because I wanted to be able to sit outside before the sun took over the shade I have and just enjoy a coffee listening to nature. Listening to birds before the teenagers start to play basketball at the school, or kicking a soccer ball against the wall. Listen to the wind before the young kids go outside and start throwing sand against my fence for no reason. Qualitative time alone in nature in silence. 

I spend a ridiculous amount of time in silence. When my work day is done there are no conversations here, except random discussions about grooming habits with my cat. This isn’t qualitative time. It’s what I like to call ‘nothing until the next something time.” It isn’t long enough to enjoy anything substantial and joyful. It is sitting outside if the weather is nice and listening to my neighbour dictate all his texts to Siri, and my upstairs neighbour’s humming AC unit. It’s a cacophony that fills time quantitatively until it is time to go to bed, or the mosquitos chase me in. Even the mosquitos are literally biting into any attempt of qualitative time I could have when everyone has decided to be still and not disturb the neighbourhood.

Spending time worrying about quantitative time is what is doing us all in. It would do us all some good to find more qualitative time in our lives.