On Wasting and Spending Time

tomorrow is another day...

What's that sound? That tick-tick-ticking?

Oh, that? It's nothing, it's your personal life clock counting down the remaining time you have left on this blue-green planet. But don't worry, you're not special, we all have one of these clocks. Most days, though, we tune out the sound so we can carry on undisturbed and on autopilot.

We are here for just a minute, but we fritter the hours away as if they come to us from a bottomless well.

Many of us live with dread about tomorrow, and boy, it's going to be annoying because we need to go to the DMV, dentist, or dry cleaners. We are irritated. Annoyed. And why not? Life can be so frustrating, right?

Does that assessment resonate? Sometimes? Most of the time? Even during these ridiculously challenging times when awareness of the temporary nature of our lives has come into full focus (thanks, Coronavirus)?

Or maybe you’re one of those terminally cheerful types who feels excited to greet each day and knows that the time you’ve been given is a gift to be spent with purpose and joy—if so, please accept my envy.

New Distractions

With pre-pandemic default distractions falling away, perhaps you’ve replaced them with equally mindless and time-wasting pursuits.

Or you've traded in your stressful commute to work from home, but with boundaries between home and work now blurred, you're just as stressed because now your job lives with you in your tiny apartment. Perhaps you're working less while working from home, but instead, you exercise obsessively to adhere to some arbitrary standard that you accept as a marker of wellness or achievement.

Or maybe like me, you've sat around not quite moping, not quite depressed, finding every excuse to not do anything but the bare minimum as you watch the day vaporize. I even got sucked into a LinkedIn rabbit hole (LinkedIn!) as I was procrastinating on writing this essay. Losing time to LinkedIn has got to be the lowest form of procrastination. I must be getting desperate for distractions.

It's a blip on the cosmic screen, this life of ours. I know this, yet I was helpless against whatever force was keeping me from enjoying the day, doing things that matter to me, and making the most of time while I still have it. I couldn’t even make my Containers work for me!  

The Second Arrow

The worst part of this mindless time-wasting is the sting of the second arrow.

In a well-known Buddhist parable of the second arrow, we learn that we create our own suffering in response to situations out of our control (hello, most of life). Yes, the day is nearly gone, and I can't change that, but I injured myself with the second arrow by being angry or disappointed, mentally berating myself that I should know better.

The first arrow is the painful event, but when we shoot ourselves with the second arrow therein lies the suffering. That second arrow, suffering, is optional.

How do we recover on days like this? What's the best way to salvage a day, a week, a year that seems to have slipped by? How do we come back to presence and gratitude for the time we've been given and the time we have left to do the things we want to do—even under the current restrictions? 

Are you wasting time and worrying about it or do you roll with the days as they come?

postscript: I didn’t intend for this essay to be a downer, but I do want to share my fluctuating states of mind and being. I think it helps to know we’re not the only ones who feel a certain way—especially if that way is not particularly sunny—despite the weather outside :)  

LINKS

• How this Dutch city is redesigning itself for extreme heat

• The Declining Power of the American Passport: U.S. citizens are finally confronting the randomness that travel and immigration are built on

• The Doomsday Clock: Closer than ever: It is 100 seconds to midnight (since we’re talking about time…)

• Yay! Kathleen Edwards is back, and what a story: Kathleen Edwards on quitting music, falling for a conman – and her comeback

—> If you enjoy my writing and want to show a bit of appreciation, you can buy me a coffee (I love coffee). Thank you—and thanks to those who have already done so!