In Protest of Time

Here’s to the ones who want some space.

A year ago, I hesitated to capture my “2017” and to send a letter to friends and family, as is customary and I like to do at least once a year. I repeated the same cycle this year: why am I writing an end-of-year letter if I don’t support the notion of the year as everyone’s best cycle? I do it, because I like it, not because I’m obligated. (End-of-year letter coming soon.)

Is a month four weeks or 30/31 days?
When does the morning end?
Who decides when summer begins?
What determines lunch time?
Why do calendar years matter?

That “bad week,” that “bad day,” that “not my year,” could end sooner. That “good week,” that “good day,” that “breakout year” (ha! Don’t read the news…) can also continue long past its deadline. Days, weeks, months, seasons, and years help us define the way we live and work. We structure the phases of the world around us categorically, so that we can work and speak similarly. When candles insufficiently measured and tracked time, humans invented clocks and calendars to mark the moments. The fact that they help us means they can also hurt. Each of us has a separate experience of the world. Defining a personal relationship with time puts us in control of our attitude and our energy. Clocks revolve, and humans evolve, too.

me, December 2017

People keep asking me “what are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”

Like with most questions that seem straightforward, my answer is complex. I thought about finding a group of friends, maybe going somewhere to celebrate. Friends in Berlin have invited me to join their celebrations. I’ve decided to abstain. I want a normal night of rest. What I really want is to go someplace in nature, escape to a coast, a mountaintop, an overlook, and just be for a few hours, then return to the everyday routine. I didn’t find or create that opportunity for myself yet. I feel silly to celebrate midnight, an opportunity we have with every turn of the Earth, yet we arbitrarily relish only once every 365 opportunities. So, as of now, I’m going to go to bed Monday and wake up Tuesday at my normal times.

We have created a social construct that pretends the new calendar year presents a unique reset button, and that life is suddenly renewed with the turn of the clock and the drop of a ball. Yes, we made it. 2018 is over. 2019 is imminent. Can time so precariously dictate our attitudes? Does happiness come from within us or from the world around us, from a calendar and clock?

Here’s my prediction: at the end of 2019, we’re going to chalk it up to a wash and say “thank God, 2020 is here! Now we can start transforming ourselves.” Why bother, if we know it’s going to be regrettable?

My aim is to wash myself of that attitude and receive every present moment as the opportunity to check in, to choose my attitude, to reflect on my congruity with my world, to exercise self awareness. The difference between January 1 and September 19 is a simple thought. Both are equal opportunities to start, to end, to continue. We – as individuals – come to an intersection and have a chance to pause, to turn, to continue without stopping when we choose to reach that point. This is my captain – me – speaking to my craft and my crew and my cargo – also me: do what suits me. Go or stay when and where I feel compelled. Be who I am.

Here’s my invitation – to you and to myself:

  • if life is trending positive, keep going.
  • if you want something different out of life, make it what you want.
  • if you aren’t sure what’s going on in life, cool. Take time to be an explorer.

We can’t all start shining on New Year’s Day. If you’re glowing already, why not continue? And if you want to glow, start when you’re ready.

also me, December 2017

Here’s to this moment and the next, separated only by our minds.

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