Pandemic Time

My wife and I went for a walk the other night. On this particular walk, I could smell the fall in the air. The dampness in the air isn’t as warm. There’s an earthiness to it, the leaves are wanting to change. Summer is coming to an end.

The last year and a half have been strange for the passing of time. When my daily routine changes and expectation go out the window I lose my grip on time. Typically this happens when I’m on vacation or with an unstructured weekend. The last 18 months have proven a couple of things:

1. Every day I have less time than I had before. 
2. If I want to do something there’s only one person who can make it happen.

This for me is a pessimistic perspective that I have avoided most of my life. But sobering and true. In the past, these thoughts have caused panic that I’m not doing enough which has been code for “I am not enough”. That’s a toxic spiral.

Instead, I’ve tried to be proactive about it. For that means writing. 

Last December I swallowed my pride and spent $20 on the notebooks I wanted. I’ve done a “daily review” almost daily since. Writing a couple of paragraphs about where I was at that day. Then writing my to-do list for the next day.

This little ritual has helped my awareness of the passing of time. Writing down where I’m at and thinking about where I want to be has been cathartic and motivating. I’ve been consistent with my goals. They haven’t gone to plan but I’ve been stuck with them.

This sounds like I’ve hacked into a secret productivity method. That’s just not the case. More than anything it’s helped me be more present. Feel the moment I am in. Dropping all the past and future baggage I carry around and just be.

In those moments time can slow down and I savor what I have. 

I am grateful for the change in the season. It’s been uncomfortably hot here. I am hoping this new season brings about the continued changes I’ve been seeing.