Being Controlled By The Clock

Resist the urge to hurry

Raymond found me outside on the patio overlooking the ocean. He had been golfing that morning while I strolled the village on Coronado Island.  Earlier at breakfast, we had mapped out our afternoon: a drive up north to see Torrey Pines and then maybe a nice dinner on the beach. 

Given that it was close to 3pm and I was starving, I suggested a pitstop at a local mexican restaurant. I had stumbled upon Miguel's earlier as I was exploring the village.  It was a quaint restaurant tucked away in the alley. Their happy hour started soon and the portabello tacos were calling my name. 

We walked over to Miguel's and enjoyed a nice retreat from the hustle and bustle that was our hotel. Then to the car for the short drive up the coast.  

Once we arrived at Torrey Pines, Raymond fell into this trance. Golf courses do that to him, but I will admit this one had be spellbound as well. 

We walked around casually making sure to stay out of the way of passing golfers. We browsed the merchandise racks in the clubhouse. We walked back out to take in the view. 

And then it happened.

Raymond looked down at his watch and shifted from peaceful to hurried.  He kept making comments about the time and suggesting that we leave if we wanted to catch the sunset at the hotel and and and.  

Normally ruffled by this display of energy and sucked in all the same, I looked at him and said, "what are we in a hurry for?"

He replied about wanting to fit it all in and see as much as possible before we drove out the following day.  While plausible reasons to get a move on, they were all crap in my book because we were standing in one of the most beautiful places either of us had ever seen.  

Wasn't that good enough? 

I let him fidget around in his pockets and pace frantically as he pretended to take in the beauty. I stood quiet and calm like a tree in the wind.  One more look at his watch, I thought, and I'm going to call a time out. 

When we hurry, time contracts.

Which by definition means it gets smaller.  We feel compelled to operate by our tool the clock, but in reality it becomes more foe than friend.

Much like decluttering our homes, it is important that we declutter our calendar.  For example, time and again I am asked by a well-meaning momma about organizing tips and tricks to get her house in order.  

Since I don't subscribe to tips or tricks, I tell her it is far more important to take inventory of what she is housing, assess those items importance (aka declutter), and then look at the space to see how she can use it more efficiently. 

The same process rings true for our time. 

Deep down we know that we've given out one too many a yes because that is so commonly felt. However, instead of pulling back and decluttering our calendar, we look to the tips and tricks to use the time more efficiently.  

We read blogs and books on how to get more done with less time, or we try out a new app or planner that promises to get us whipped into organized shape. 

Just like you can't outwork a bad diet, you can't out organize a cluttered space and you can't slow down when you keep speeding in the wrong direction. 

Because when we slow down, time expands.  When we realize the value of the moment, we become selective as to what we say yes to and what we decline. 

When we resist the urge to hurry, we catch a beautiful sunset over the  cliffs of Torrey Pines while overlooking Del Mar Beach.  

Life is lived in between the moments, don't miss it. 

Jennifer Burnham