There were times in my life that I felt like I was always late for something. Running from one thing to another, stress heightening, being late for each appointment, meeting, or hurrying to get in the car to drop off the kids somewhere. I viewed time as my enemy. I was always running against the clock. I had a love/hate relationship with it. I loved to have time but felt like there was never enough of it.
I was recently reflecting back about when the kids were little, my husband and I took them tent camping (which I really wasn’t looking forward to…). I agreed to the adventure, but my only request was that we leave our watches at home. There was no need to know the time of day it was—I asked that we slept when we were tired, we woke when the sun came up, and we ate when we were hungry. It was liberating! The days unfolded as if they had a particular rhythm within the nature around us. I thought to myself, the birds are never late for anything, the deer passing by our tent are not looking at their watch, and the sun and moon know exactly when to show up each day without setting an alarm clock.
Last week, I took care of an older gentleman in the hospice where I work, and we got to talking about my youngest son, who will be graduating from college this year. My patient was curious to know more about my son’s life plans and how it related to his own journey of life when he was a young boy. He listened attentively, smiled and looked up to say to me, “Oh, the luxury of time…”. My patient asked me to tell my son to enjoy every moment of growing into adulthood—the ups and downs, the heartbreaks and the triumphs. I shared this encounter with my son that evening when I got home from work. The next morning, I learned that my patient had died during the night. Life is so fragile, but what a gift that conversation was.
The “luxury of time,” it’s something that has stayed with me, as I’ve never really thought of time in terms of that statement before. When I think of a luxury, my initial thought is a material item, such as a fancy new car or a piece of jewelry. But time as a luxury?
Practicing mindfulness over the past several years, I found that I view time more as a luxury. To go from a state of constantly doing to just being, even if it’s just for 5 minute mindful check-in throughout my day. To take a 5 minute pause to sit, to come back to myself, to be in this moment, this moment that is happening right now. To take a few breaths, to feel my feet on the floor and check in with my emotions, feelings, bodily sensations, and where I am in this world. Maybe to say a silent prayer. Or a quite observation of how am I showing up today? To feel a sense of grounding and calm, to feel time slow down and pause, and then move back into my day.
This has helped tremendously in my stress levels and in time management. It feels like I’ve actually created more space in my day. I feel the “luxury of time” between the activities of daily life. The pauses may happen during natural transitions in my day such as getting in and out of my car, between meetings or phone calls, or before I rise out of bed in the morning. I equate my mindful check-ins to the rests or pause intervals of silence in a beautiful piece of music. It’s the pausing that allow us to hear the notes of a grand symphony, otherwise, every note played would all run together. It’s the life pauses that have the potential to refresh and renew, slow things down a bit and have us wake up to each life moment. It allows me to feel the great “luxury of time.”