False Construct

So, where did I leave off? Oh yeah - the subject of time.

Aside from the subject of aging, time itself is perplexing to me. Time seems only to exist in reference to something else. In and of itself it really doesn't have any meaning. The sun rises and the sun sets and then it happens all over again, and again, and again. It's the same sun and the same sky. The planets revolve around the sun and then it happens all over again, and again, and again. The same planets, the same universe.

So why does it have such an effect on our daily lives. Why does time seem to control all of human history? Are things happening at the same time, is time cyclical or is it linear? I guess it all depends on how you look at it.

On a weekly basis I am supposed to hand in timesheets at work which delineate every thing I did every day for each day of the week. Unless I am working on a specific project and doing a specific thing, similar activities are lumped together. This is how it usually works in most offices and for most jobs. But it is not a true gauge of the work that is being done. It's a false construct.

Time is a false construct. For example, I can work one hour and do the same thing one person takes two hours to do, or another takes half an hour to do. There are all these variables that cannot be accounted for. If for example I work 8 hours in a day and I'm supposed to be at work at 8, but instead I get to work at 9 and work until 5 - was I late? The person who came in at 8 and left at 4 and I both worked 8 hours. Or did we? If someone can do the same job in half the time as another person, but put in the same amount of time, did they work the same amount? Probably not.

Does it matter when the work gets done? The answer is that it only matters because of the nature of the work that needs to be done, not the time itself. If part of my job is to be someplace at 8 or I will miss something important, then what matters it that I will miss something important, not that it was at 8 or 9.

I use work hours because it is easy to relate to, but this applies to all aspects of our lives. Does it matter that someone graduated from college when they were 21 or if they graduated at age 51? It doesn't matter what a person does between age 21 and 51, whatever it is, it is valuable.

I refuse to be governed by time. Maybe it's cultrual. I grew up with what we called "CP time." Today a more PC term may be "PC time" - people of color time. Because of the hotter climates where people of color originate from, it seems that how long it takes you do something is less important than getting something done. Since the sun is so hot in the middle of the day, you can't rely on the hours between 11 and 3. Things get done when they get done.

As we celebrate the end of a year and the beginning of a new one (both of which are false constructs), I hope to remember not to worry so much about planning what I will accomplish in the next year but of appreciating each accomplishment as it comes and in rejoicing in whatever lessons are learned in each moment that I live my life.

My resolution is to put any anxiety I have about time into a deep hole in the ground and say good bye to it as I say goodbye to the old year and to the last 4 decades of my life. I will hold a private memorial service to commemorate all the wonderful and not so wonderful times. And thank "time" for it's refining effect on my life.

As I look forward to the new experiences time will bring. I promise not to worry so much about what I plan to accomplish but savor each accomplishment as it comes.
What needs to get done will get done sometime.

Chasing Mice

For about five minutes I sit on the couch staring out in front of me. I then scratch my head and look down around my feet and stare at a speck on the carpet, then let out a long sigh. My husband who has been pacing back in forth, trying to get my attention, says to me, "Chasing the mouse around in your head again?"

He has such a way with words. He doesn't say much but when he does speak he uses his words with efficiency and very little waste, his arrow never misses its mark. I am envious of his ability. I never quite thought of it that way, but that is exactly what I am doing when I'm in my head. It's like a Tom and Jerry episode. Sometimes I catch the mouse, sometimes I don't. Even when I do catch it, it usually slips away to plan its revenge. The mice, of course, are my thoughts. So I say, "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing."

My husband rolls his eyes. He doesn't comprehend how someone can waste so much time just thinking. He's an action-motivated person who plans his day to the minute. I envy that too.

But it had to be this way, he is the yang to my ying or vice versa.

So here I am, chasing mice again. I usually reserve all my useless musings for a handwritten diary that I have kept since I was about eight years old. The oldest one I have laying around dates back to 1981, when I was 11. I guess I'm proud of that fact, but then I think it may be slightly narcissistic. There goes that mouse.

On this very cold December day, I have decided (as part of my procrastination efforts) to start a blog and go public. The idea came to me when I was viewing my sister in law's blog. For a while, my brother has urged me to start one of my own but the thought of bearing myself to the world was too much for me to... uhm ... bear. At this point so many people are doing it that I have justified this action by convincing myself that my humble blog will be lost somewhere in cyberspace and no one really cares about what I think anyway.

I took the day off from work to actually get stuff done. I have even devised an hour by hour schedule. My husband would be proud. But I'm already behind an hour. Right now, I should be dying the roots of my hair to get rid of any evidence that I am aging at a much faster rate than I am comfortable with. Where does all the time go? I guess I'll save that mouse for a later blog.