Time
Imagine that today is a vast expanse of time. From the time you read this until the time you close your eyes to sleep, there is SO MUCH that is possible!
Picture the time of today as one, unbroken pure moment that you can occupy in whatever ways you want or need to. Remember what a day felt like when you were little and had ALL DAY to play. Perhaps a day felt like a LOT! How could you occupy a whole day?! Perhaps you felt bored. Perhaps you wanted to play with your friends. Perhaps you played with some of your toys. And hardly any time has passed!
The time of today is no different. It really is abundant. And tomorrow will be another long expanse of time and then another... and another. You cannot even imagine a month of these days! There is just too much time...
In our current moment, of course, we feel the pressure of time. Because we can’t go out. We can’t touch one another. We can’t visit one another. We can’t sit together or gather together. This makes the time feel heavy. But, from the point of view of making, this time is light.
Maybe draw a picture of what the expanse of the day looks like. Or sit and visualize it for a good, long moment.
Listen: the thing we do with our days is really hard. We break them up into tiny pieces and we rush through all the pieces trying to complete too many activities in not enough time per container of time and we feel rushed and we do not get anything done to our satisfaction.
But you can break up your day today into exactly the right number of pieces. You can work by the hour or in some 30 minute blocks and some 2 hour blocks. You don’t need to use a timer, but you could.
Imagine ten hours. And imagine turning off your notifications and not checking any media or looking at email. Let today be a holiday from All That.
Imagine two thirty minute breaks to eat, during which you might read or listen to music. If you want to cook, give yourself more time.
Imagine an expanse of time in which you write to say where you are right now and what your working urgently needs and imagine you make a list of things you might DO to give your work what it urgently needs.
Pick one of the things that you decided to do. And do it. Really fully. Not just until it gets hard, but until you feel as if you’ve really given it your full effort and have something (whatever it is) to reflect on.
Reflect a little.
Maybe exercise vigorously for 5 minutes. Put on music and dance. Meditate. Let there be an expanse of time in which you cleanse your making palate.
Of the items on your list of things you might DO, which one feels most promising now? Do it. Fully. Maybe that takes five minutes. Maybe it takes two hours. No matter. You have all day.
If you have questions you want to ask or things you want to check in with others about, write those things down on a piece of paper to deal with later. Ideas for others activities or new urgent concerns...these can go on that paper (your journal!) too.
Keep at this process of working. Give yourself permission to re-reflect and add new items to your THINGS TO DO list.
Don’t be afraid of losing yourself in the process. If you start a task and you get deeply into it and you look us and four hours have passed, that’s TOTALLY OK! (It’s probably GREAT, actually.)
You will get “itchy” to abandon ship. There are things in your feeds. There is news happening. There are games to play and puzzles to work and texts to respond to. Let all that go. Let it go at least until dark. If you need a break, look out the window or shift your work to outdoors. Make a drawing of an idea. Or craft a puppet to try something. Try to incarnate something with your body.
At some point today, give yourself permission to do the whole thing. Record it (mostly just so you’re not anxious about losing anything; you may never listen to it). Start by saying “this is the beginning...” and let WHATEVER HAPPENS HAPPEN until you can say “this is the end.” You can do ANYTHING in between “beginning” and “end” — you can circle back to add things in, you can try to do the same things in three different versions, you can do what you have done and you can simply describe or act out what you have not addressed yet. BUT DON’T SKIP ANYTHING. And don’t be addicted to looking at notes. What happens during this time may surprise you. If things come up spontaneously, greet them and address them. New idea? Try it! New connection: make it! Crippling self-doubt or self-consciousness? Accept it...feel it...and move through it. Embrace it if you can...but don’t be denied the gift you can give yourself of this quiet half-hour of making and revisiting and testing and feeling your way.
At the end of the day, reflect.
Picture the time of today as one, unbroken pure moment that you can occupy in whatever ways you want or need to. Remember what a day felt like when you were little and had ALL DAY to play. Perhaps a day felt like a LOT! How could you occupy a whole day?! Perhaps you felt bored. Perhaps you wanted to play with your friends. Perhaps you played with some of your toys. And hardly any time has passed!
The time of today is no different. It really is abundant. And tomorrow will be another long expanse of time and then another... and another. You cannot even imagine a month of these days! There is just too much time...
In our current moment, of course, we feel the pressure of time. Because we can’t go out. We can’t touch one another. We can’t visit one another. We can’t sit together or gather together. This makes the time feel heavy. But, from the point of view of making, this time is light.
Maybe draw a picture of what the expanse of the day looks like. Or sit and visualize it for a good, long moment.
Listen: the thing we do with our days is really hard. We break them up into tiny pieces and we rush through all the pieces trying to complete too many activities in not enough time per container of time and we feel rushed and we do not get anything done to our satisfaction.
But you can break up your day today into exactly the right number of pieces. You can work by the hour or in some 30 minute blocks and some 2 hour blocks. You don’t need to use a timer, but you could.
Imagine ten hours. And imagine turning off your notifications and not checking any media or looking at email. Let today be a holiday from All That.
Imagine two thirty minute breaks to eat, during which you might read or listen to music. If you want to cook, give yourself more time.
Imagine an expanse of time in which you write to say where you are right now and what your working urgently needs and imagine you make a list of things you might DO to give your work what it urgently needs.
Pick one of the things that you decided to do. And do it. Really fully. Not just until it gets hard, but until you feel as if you’ve really given it your full effort and have something (whatever it is) to reflect on.
Reflect a little.
Maybe exercise vigorously for 5 minutes. Put on music and dance. Meditate. Let there be an expanse of time in which you cleanse your making palate.
Of the items on your list of things you might DO, which one feels most promising now? Do it. Fully. Maybe that takes five minutes. Maybe it takes two hours. No matter. You have all day.
If you have questions you want to ask or things you want to check in with others about, write those things down on a piece of paper to deal with later. Ideas for others activities or new urgent concerns...these can go on that paper (your journal!) too.
Keep at this process of working. Give yourself permission to re-reflect and add new items to your THINGS TO DO list.
Don’t be afraid of losing yourself in the process. If you start a task and you get deeply into it and you look us and four hours have passed, that’s TOTALLY OK! (It’s probably GREAT, actually.)
You will get “itchy” to abandon ship. There are things in your feeds. There is news happening. There are games to play and puzzles to work and texts to respond to. Let all that go. Let it go at least until dark. If you need a break, look out the window or shift your work to outdoors. Make a drawing of an idea. Or craft a puppet to try something. Try to incarnate something with your body.
At some point today, give yourself permission to do the whole thing. Record it (mostly just so you’re not anxious about losing anything; you may never listen to it). Start by saying “this is the beginning...” and let WHATEVER HAPPENS HAPPEN until you can say “this is the end.” You can do ANYTHING in between “beginning” and “end” — you can circle back to add things in, you can try to do the same things in three different versions, you can do what you have done and you can simply describe or act out what you have not addressed yet. BUT DON’T SKIP ANYTHING. And don’t be addicted to looking at notes. What happens during this time may surprise you. If things come up spontaneously, greet them and address them. New idea? Try it! New connection: make it! Crippling self-doubt or self-consciousness? Accept it...feel it...and move through it. Embrace it if you can...but don’t be denied the gift you can give yourself of this quiet half-hour of making and revisiting and testing and feeling your way.
At the end of the day, reflect.
Comments
Post a Comment