The Time-Change Still Stinks

ERRRRGGGGGHHHHH!

The kids are staying awake until 9:30 p.m. plus every evening.  Even with a 7:30-8:00 p.m. in-bed time (then some reading).  Even with a 7:20 a.m. ish wake up.   Even when they run around and exhaust themselves during the day.  Even without any screen time during the school week.

I can't stand the time change.  It messes with everyone's sleep (and has for a long, long time.)

The Daily Unplug

On Sunday, our minister spoke about time and specifically the practice of Orthodox Jews to step out of the hectic chaos of daily life--to step out of regular time--to embrace the peace of their sabbath.  We can't do that, she noted, as 21st-century UUs (because it takes a village, or community, to commit to such an extensive observance and we tend to be more flexible and diverse than that), but we can try to adapt some of the ideas to our own practices.  We do already save an hour for Sunday worship--why not add a walk?  Or agree not to talk "shop" (committees, meetings, work) during fellowship?  And how about the rest of the week--could we unplug some, to step out of the rush of time crunches and embrace what is really important in our lives?

Unplug.  There's that word again. It keeps coming at me.  I already have an "unplugged basket" to drop my smartphone in when the family is home.  But I haven't been that good at relinquishing the 'droid.  So I'm trying again because, as our minister said, it's good to have aspirations.  I'm going to put my smartphone in the unplugged basket--now a wooden heart I bought at church that was made by a Haitian artist--every weekday from the bus arrival to bedtime, essentially three and a half hours from 4-7:30.  It's not too long, considering I'm fully plugged in from 8 am to 4 pm.  And even if I have my own time while the kids do their thing, I'm not going to blog or email; I'll read or cook or make something.  But what's important is to be present, available, not distracted by the computer/phone which is a kind of digital sedative when I'm restless or don't know what to do with myself.  We'll see what comes of it.

5:55

I don't know where it started--probably with my mom, as childhood things often do--but somewhere I picked up the superstition, or the game really, of making a wish whenever the clock showed repeated numbers.  Of course, it only comes true if you don't look at the clock again until the number changes.  Sorta like wishing on the first star or a bale of hay ("bale of hay, bale of hay, make a wish, and go away", where you're not supposed to look at them again.  I mean, in a way, it's even like birthday candles--you wish on the flames and then blow them out.  Does anyone else do these things, beyond the candles?

Anyway, that's why I posted about making a wish at 11:11 on 11/11/11.  Actually, 5:55 is the usual wishing hour in our house, now that the kids aren't home for 2:22 or 3:33 and are outside playing at 4:44.  We find ourselves eating dinner everyday and making wishes on the digital clocks at 5:55.  Bud will wish on the microwave and Sis on the stove (and sometimes these are a minute apart) and then they tell each other when it's safe.  And they're very careful not to tell anyone their wishes, though I understand they each have a list of them in their diaries.

I like how for just a minute we stop everything, pay attention to time, and embrace the moment.

Time is Not of the Essence

People always talk about time. Mainly how they don't have enough of it, how much more they could do if they had more of it, how they never get everything done.

I've said it myself, many times.

And I've been wrong.

Time isn't the problem. Time just is.

Yes, it's been on my mind a lot lately because I feel like I have a lot of it.

Here I am sitting in bed, 10 hours alone, no responsibilities. Seemingly all the time in the world. Everyone who visits wishes for some of my time--ah, to spend a day or two in bed, to rest, to get things done (though, no one ever wants all approximately 60 days, unless they could spread them out. And I admit that isn't a bad idea.). And I totally understand that.

Except I'm not getting everything done: there are emails I haven't replied to, calls I haven't made, all sorts of projects I could do but haven't gotten to, books to read, shows to watch. And I'm not napping; I'm doing something on my list all day long. There is always too much. I want and desire too much, even of those things I deem priorities. But I'm learning as I am here in bed that I can be happy without so much of it; I'm coming to understand what my real short-list of priorities is--and none of them are "things." Though, of course, I have been depressed about some things I can't do and events I've missed. But the sadnesses that have arisen have often passed, especially because I try not to dwell since it can't be changed. I'm trying to enjoy what I can do, though it helps to know that this is rather temporary. Though I hope I could say the same if it were permanent. As Stephen Hawkings noted in a recent interview, "My advice to other disabled people would be, concentrate on things your disability doesn’t prevent you doing well, and don’t regret the things it interferes with. Don’t be disabled in spirit, as well as physically."

I would love to say I could extrapolate all of this awareness of desire and suffering, to use the Buddhist terms, to life and the larger picture, to accept that no matter how long my life, chances are that I will feel that it isn't enough, that I will miss out on what I leave behind, especially with regards to our children (especially when I read posts like this). Still, perhaps recognizing this connection between wants and dissatisfaction, desire and unfulfillment, on a daily, monthly, even yearly basis, will help me embrace it on the grander scale.

But for now, for all of my friends who keep worrying about time and believing they could ever have enough of it to finish their to-do lists, I say, it's a myth. Time isn't the challenge. We are.

(Though, I do wish you all some rest and time in bed for yourselves; it can help many things.)

Early to Rise, Early to Bed

The time change is for childfree people or parents of teenagers, those who do not have to contend with little kids who do not see the value in sleeping in an extra hour every fall.

Sis woke up at 5:45 a.m.--the new time--on Sunday, because, for her, it was 6:45 a.m.--the old time--and wake-up. And no amount of explaining could convince her it was not really morning.

The only saving grace? Bedtime last night was at 6:30 p.m. by the clock--it felt like 7:30 p.m. to them and it was dark, so there was no complaining.

Except from us, because regardless of the fact that we were awake the same number of hours, it was just all backwards.

It's one of the things I miss about my childfree days (hope you enjoyed it, Aunt Banana!). Though, that's not to say that I'm ready for them to be teenagers.

Time, It is a Changin'

So, Daylight Savings Time is here.

And my kids had been getting ready for a month. Sis and Bud had been slowly moving back their wake-up time from 7:15 to 6:15 a.m. and so I had been shifting their bedtimes correspondingly, from 7:15 to 6:15 p.m. So Sunday, when the time changed, they were magically back to their 7:15 wake-up and 7:15 bedtime, exactly where they were about 6 weeks ago.

It's strange, really. They've shifted themselves before every time change they've had. Is it the light? Even with the room darkening shades? Is it the weather? Is it a perfectly-timed growth spurt? Who knows. But it works like, well, clockwork. Everytime.