The Weight of Time

Time on my hands

I haven’t worn a watch in almost two months, and putting mine on the other day, its weight felt unfamiliar as did the weight of time it evoked. When you are accustomed to having no time there is a subtle heaviness to having lots of it. I wear this time like one of those weighted blankets. It soothes me as much as it weighs me down.

Overnight, on March 12th I went from being someone with no time to someone with oceans of it.  Endless time has rendered me calm, and things like waiting in line to get into Whole Foods, or being stuck on hold for twenty minutes don’t try me. I’ve literally got all day. Those chores I’ve assigned myself to keep from absolute inertia can wait until later, or even tomorrow. 

Time to make a plan

This year, a friend sent me an amazing birthday gift filled with a vast array of marvels, including a soft notebook called the Self-Care Planner. This kind of book makes me anxious and I have moved it from place to place in my house, both avoiding it, and keeping it in my line of sight for weeks. When I finally opened it I found it is just what I need right now. It will be my time-keeper, my coach, and companion. This book can help me bear the weight of time that is both comforting and smothering me.

From the start of this era of sheltering in place, I have had the intention to make effective use of my time. I found that the last weeks of March seemed much longer than the entire month of April. Those last weeks of March were spent in a daze. I was nervous about money, sad for her, and selfishly happy that my daughter would spend the balance of her semester at home and anxious about everything.

There is still ample time for me to set and achieve some goals. I am trying to work up some enthusiasm for that, and hoping my magic planner will inspire me. Isn’t that what these things are supposed to do?

Time to be alone

My daughter has gone away until mid-June. This is not the longest we’ve been separated, not even close, but this time, with nothing urgent occupying me, I feel quite alone. She has been home since mid-March and this is the longest uninterrupted time we’ve had together since she was eight. As I drove home from the airport I felt her absence acutely and immediately. 

I am not a solitary person and the weeks of alone-ness stretch out before me dense and sodden. There is no one here to share morning coffee, watch Netflix, or hold me accountable for doing things like getting out of bed, showering, and doing the dreaded housecleaning. I don’t know how people who live alone do it. Without her, all this free time is daunting. 

Time after time

It is easy to disregard yourself and the people you love when you have a demanding job. I wish that my job made more demands on my skills and intellect and less on my time and energy although the outcome might be the same I would feel more gratified and less emptied.

What I fear most is coming to the end of this stretch of time having accomplished too little. At some point, I will go back to work and once again I’ll have no time, and its companion, no energy. I promise in my Self-Care Planner to exercise, write, and drink enough water every day. It is a 13-week plan, so it should take me a few weeks past the time I return to work. Will I learn in these remaining months how to balance the weight of time so I can keep writing, exercising, making time for myself, while working? Can I take these practices into the time after this time?

Time is a gift

I am aware of how lucky I am to have the gift of all this time. There is plenty of food in house and I have plenty of toilet paper. I can choose what I do and how I spend my time which is a luxury many people don’t have. It would be irresponsible for me to squander this gift and fail to make the most of it. I will treasure the comfort of the weight of time, rather than let it flatten me.