Time contamination

I heard an interesting phrase on the radio today, from a woman named Brigid Shulte talking about her new book (Overwhelmed: Work, Love, and Play When No One Has the Time) -- "contaminated time."   This is time that, once we carve it out of work, family, and all our other responsibilities, is still completely filled up with a mental list of all the things we haven't done in the past, and have yet to do in the future.

I only heard a few minutes on the radio, but it resonated (of course) with me.  I don't think you need to have young children around or even a high pressure fancy job to feel the crunch.  She gave some statistics: the US is extreme in its work hours, expecting and getting far more than most other countries in the world; in our culture we gauge status by our busy-ness not by our leisure time; add to this the influx of technological ways to encroach on our every waking hour, and it's a easy recipe for feeling overwhelmed and under productive.

I did like the time contamination idea, especially.  For me, even going on vacation seems somewhat overwhelming because the time contamination before and after is huge.  The stress of getting all the ducks in row prior to leaving, combined with the stress of putting them all back in a row after getting back... nearly (but not completely) makes the R&R of the time off itself a wash.

Now, granted, I'm a person who gets her ducks in a row, or tries to.  That's important to me.  But I don't think this is a requirement for feeling this way.  Whether you are or aren't a duck herder, I think the list on everyone's mind is far longer than we feel comfortable with.  How to put that list away, or how to cull it down, or how to just get enough uncontaminated time in one's life to make it not seem so completely un-doable?

I was thinking about this during another solo walk this morning, and I realized that alone time, solo time, is absolutely essential.  I am a fundamental introvert who happens to also love people and have a lively social circle.  It is always tempting for me to fill spots in my schedule with people I want to see and talk to.  But recently, thanks to this awful illness, I've had room (or given myself room) to not do that quite so much.  Or... to be honest... when I've accidentally gotten that room, I've enjoyed it so deeply and richly that I really have to take notice.

I am a really good truck loader.  This is one of my super powers as anyone who knows me will attest.  And I tend to treat my time in the same way as I treat my space.  Oh!  Here's a little corner that EXACTLY fits the box that I have over on that side of the garage... I'll put it in there!  That makes me happy.  A good tight fit makes me very very happy.

So I do the same with time.  Oh!  I have about 45 minutes.  I'll call this dear friend who lives oh so close by and we can catch coffee, or chat on the phone while I drive, or I'll pay my bills, or I'll take a little detour and do this other errand that I haven't gotten to for awhile.  And that makes me happy.  A good tight schedule of time well spent taking care of biz, makes me very very happy.

Or... does it?  It may feel good and productive, but the wellsprings start to dry up, I think, with that kind of mentality.  Events in time tend to benefit from a little breathing room.  A well-packed garage or a truck may not exactly be the metaphor we want to go for when it comes to planning our lives.  We may want to look more at rock gardens, or beautiful rooms, where each object has a beauty of its own, and benefits from room and an opportunity to enjoy it. 

A little less time contamination.  A little more space.  Let's see how that works.