How focusing on moments made Monday mornings a little sweeter..

(Originally posted on Medium)

I think our awareness of time really starts when we enter education. I remember sitting in a classroom and staring at the clock willing it to move. When finally it was home time I’d feel elated, but before I knew it, my mother would be saying it was time for bed. And then there was the Sunday night dread… School again tomorrow! Really, already?

Friday night was wonderful. Saturday was great but slightly marred by the knowing that Sunday quickly followed and Sunday kind of sucked because it was the day before Monday. Me and my son were talking about this the other day. He is ten and often expresses sentiments that echo my own relationship with time.

For instance, he often claims that the weekend went too fast, and he is starting to notice that in general, time moves too quickly. He said this about the summer holiday, for example. ‘Today went really quick, this week is over already? It’s nearly time to go back to school!’ His panic echoed my own. It’s not fair, we both wanted to say — slow it all down, please!

I often wish time as we know it had not been invented. We are slaves to the clock and the passing of time whether we like it or not. It’s like a big doom-filled timer hanging over us – reminding you that you are always one step closer to death. Your time is always running out. You are always fighting against time. You always wish you had more of it.

Lack of time causes much stress and resentment. As a writer I never feel I have enough time to write. I always grab what I can and make the most of it but would I like endless time to write? Yes, of course! But life and human made constraints get in the way.

We have invented a world that counts us down in seconds, minutes and hours. We cannot look away. We are glued to it.

As much as I want to ignore time and not be ruled by it I cannot. I have to set an alarm to make sure we get up in time to be ready for the school run. I have to keep an eye on the time when I walk my dogs so that I am back on the laptop in time for Zoom calls. I have to watch the time to know when to pick my son up, when to cook dinner, when it’s time for bed.

Time, time, time. It owns us.

We all want to slow it down, but why? Because of death and not knowing for sure what comes after that. We worry, what if this is the one and only life I get? I’ve got to live it, fill it, appreciate it, make the most of it, but what if I’m not? It panics us. We want to slow it down because ultimately we are not okay with dying.

I resent it and I’m constantly looking for ways to change it only to realise that it’s impossible. Or is it?

Is there a way to slow it down? I’m always wondering this. I have an urge to try an experiment. I want to exist in a timeless weekend. I want to turn off all devices and make sure I cannot check the time at all, not once. I want to eat only when I am hungry and move when I feel restless and write when I feel creative and rest when I am tired. I want to do it and see if it feels faster or slower as I have a sneaking suspicion that watching the clock all the time is one of the things that makes it go faster.

Perhaps loving and enjoying life makes it feel faster. We all know that time slows down when we are bored or unhappy. Those afternoons sat at school watching the clock for the home time bell used to go on forever…

And why is it that as we grow older, time goes even faster? I sometimes feel I exist on a hamster wheel that just keeps me spinning around forever. I get churned out every Monday morning to the start of a new week, then suddenly it’s the end of the day, then suddenly it’s morning again, then suddenly it’s the end of the week.

It’s what everyone says all the time. Doesn’t it go fast? How is it nearly Christmas again? Didn’t the summer fly by?

Is there anything we can do to slow time down or make friends with it?

I think so. And being a writer really helps…

Let’s take Monday morning. No one wants it. No one loves it. It’s a very sad and unloved day of the week, but is it really so bad? Sometimes we have to embrace the unwanted and the unloved and look at it in a different way.

I am trying hard to make friends with Monday. I am trying to give it some love, after all, is Friday really the great fun pal it makes itself out to be? I think not when it all too suddenly spits you into Saturday with Sunday on the horizon!

This Monday morning I woke up in a good mood. Despite recent ups and downs, I surprised myself by waking up with a smile. The night before I tucked myself into my own dream world as usual and tried something new. I talked to myself in my head (I know I sound crazy…) about the niceness of tomorrow. I walked my way through the little bits of Monday that would be nice.

It started with my breakfast of oats with a swirl of chocolate spread mixed in. I smiled thinking about it. I know I am very easily pleased but I was looking forward to it. Other nice things were my time on my own before everyone wakes up and playing this little town building game I have on my iPad before reading a bit of news. The next niceness was waking my son up because one of our dogs always has to be involved and always makes it funny in some way. The next niceness was remembering that we bought the Blur Live At Wembley CD yesterday and me and my music mad son could enjoy listening to more of it on the drive to school.

I focused on these nice things more as they came up because I had tucked myself into sleep thinking about them. Then I started to notice more of them. It was Monday morning all right and there was something dark and menacing about it. Dark skies promised more rain and it felt like the sun had barely risen. The landscape looked haunted and beautiful. I smiled. There is beauty in darkness. There is beauty in a dark Monday morning.

I’m not sure if it slowed time down but it made me feel less of a slave to it and I carried it on for the rest of Monday. The niceness of my lovely Zoom group children, the niceness of eating the leftover focaccia bread we bought yesterday, the niceness of another dog walk under moody skies, the niceness of writing ideas filling my head, and eventually us all gathering back at home to eat dinner and talk about our days before another day ends.

And I feel lucky… I am alive. I had another Monday. I woke up. I lived and breathed and thought and felt and dreamed and noticed and experienced…. Yes time passed but that was because I lived. And one day I will be close to dying and I’ll look back and think well, that went fast but I did my best with it, I saw it for what it was and I tried to soak up and experience every moment, even the bad ones, and I didn’t wish it away and I paused as often as I could to think how amazing it was to have had a life.

Wow, if you think about it, it really is a beautiful thing to be alive…

As for now, I’ll end the day with the ultimate reward, writing. Then in bed once more, I’ll talk to myself about my stories, replay and plan scenes, listen to the characters talk and figure out plot holes and then I’ll think ahead about the niceness of Tuesdays…

In conclusion, I’ll let you know if I ever do my timeless experiment but I do wonder if living without time, having endless time would actually be some kind of hell?