Spend or Save?

Look Ma, no watch.. Is it just me or is it funny that a timepiece is called a watch?

This week I have been delving into what I really love to spend my time on. And I mean spend. Mitch Albom reminds us that humans are the only species who divvy up and measure time a structured way, to divide and divide and divide until even a long exhale, a sip of tea or a glance to the horizon are allocated a moment. All of the other creatures who inhabit this planet measure time otherly. By the scent of the breeze, the crunch of frost on the morning grass, the ebbing of the tide or the smile of the moon.

Time is a currency that we spend and save through our days. We throw it away with wild abandon as we gaze into the eyes of our babies, and tap tap tap away when we are far from the people we love. We let it fly freely as we cartwheel and sprint through our childhoods, sleep and grumble it away through our teens, and try to hoard it as the menopausal pull of gravity sags our stomach skin and jowls, and we finally admit that just as time is starting to speed up, we want to take more of it, in bigger and bigger chunks, for ourselves. To fill it with things that make our hearts beat more resonant and  deep, and if we are truly lucky; skip a little every now and then.

The places we choose to spend our time on don’t notice us at all, so it is us who must do the noticing. It is us who must approach our spending with care and attention. To make our investments count. Moment by tiny moment. Or so we believe.

The cult of busyness has fed into this trope, adding a sense of guilt, making us like ticking-eco-warriors (worriers) constantly finding ways to save, share, reuse and recycle our time so that an indolent hour in the sun is something akin to putting the plastics and glass in with the regular garbage. A small thing for one, but with a callous flow on effect that could jeopardise more than we planned. Or does it?

What if the flow on effect of us taking time to centre ourselves does the opposite of destruction? What if, instead of wasting and destroying, it soothes our cells in a way that they are free to bathe in moments of expansion? Of rejuvenation and clarification. Of love.

And what if this sensation creates the space for us to just simply care? For ourselves. For the things that blow our skirts up. For the hearts of those around us. For the minds and bodies of all humanity. What if by the simple process of spending some of our minutes and hours on something that allows us be present and listen to pull of our yearnings, we are able to be more present to give our presence? Being careworn is something that happens with time and weather and experiences and love and grief and life. The care will be worn into us, and we to it, holding hands through the rest of our days.

I think today is a great day to spend some time with care. Holding hands with her. Seeing what she can show us when we show up.

After all, what do we have to lose?

Time? She shall pass anyway.

What are you spending your time on today?

…From The Ashers…