How do you lose time or skip time or try to rush time in your life?
I was walking to my office on campus the other day and heard a group of visitors behind me commenting on the robots we have all over campus delivering food. These little delivery bots have been around for a while now, but they are fun to see for the first time, so I shared in their delight.
“Next we’ll see flying cars,” one of them said.
Again with the flying cars, I thought.
I always ask students (and, let’s be honest, anyone I meet) what their one prediction for the future will be, and I get responses ranging from “flying cars” to “drone delivery” to “we’re headed for peril if we don’t save the planet” to “we’ll save the planet” to “we’ll eradicate isms and find peace” to (and this person delivered the answer stoically) “we will get food delivered in tubes and never leave the house.”
The answers to this question are always odd and insightful and fun. Even the more dire responses are compelling. The flying car or AI or developments in holograms or robotics answers all seem to depict a future in which we can be more efficient and effective, albeit more vulnerable to the unknown.
These are exciting (and nerve-wracking) developments to dream about. They will speed up time, after all. But why? (My true, uncensored thought is, Why not slow the fuck down, people? Goodness - where the hell do you think we need to race to and why? But the polite essence of my response is Why?)
Are we rushing because we have some destiny that is timestamped? I suppose there are myriad answers to this question found in religion and philosophy. We have to check boxes so we can feel fulfilled, right? But I’m pretty confident that fulfillment doesn’t come from rushing.
Meanwhile, I realize I’m contributing to this rushing with my icebreaker (I want to know what’s going to happen! I want to prepare. I want to know what others think!), and society is with me. We’re all asking. The business world is with me. The wellness world is with me. Leadership is with me.
We are all in a big hurry. Think about how we live. Even meditation and “mindfulness” seem to be promoted as ways to be more effective in life and work and to think more efficiently and clearly or make more money. But we recognize the irony here, right? To meditate is to reflect.
But while we even use meditation time as the means to an end — to barrel ahead and rush forward, toward . . . flying cars? (Personally, I don’t even like driving on the freeway, and if there will be the same number of Amazon trucks flying up there, I’m good.) — I’m curious about what this means internally.
Everyone wants to master their domain. I get it. Evolution, mastery, achievement, etc… to check the boxes before we die, etc… To leave a legacy, etc… To prepare for what’s to come.
But what about the value of reflection or the beauty of what’s right here? The beauty of you, right here and now, reading on a screen human-written words that may or may not resonate with you and understanding that either response is okay. More than okay. The process of living is beautiful. We ingest, we think, we process, and we feel. We agree and disagree. We think about the future but don’t rush it.
This is not a message to “be mindful” or live in the present. It’s a call to pay attention not only to the future. Or the present. Or the past. Instead, let’s do it all.
It is often said that we share messages that we need to hear personally. I believe this is the case, but I hope nonetheless that this post will resonate with one or two of you.
Just imagine what might happen if we both pay attention and remember lessons. Think about the future, but don’t rush. What if we do it all—live across timelines?
I truly believe we have that ability. And here are tiny things I’m trying in an attempt to seek that balance:
I stopped taking my phone on my walks with the dogs—I don’t need to be answering emails as my dogs meditate on the vast world of activity that lives in a few-inch stretch of grass on a spring day.
I reflect on the day in my gratitude journal.
I plan ahead, but only to the extent that it makes sense.
I notice if I seem to be in a rush. I don’t beat myself up for it, but I do ask: Why, Jen?
I’m working on a new icebreaker. Something like . . .
“Tell me three things: What are you most proud of? What is meaningful to you right now? What would you like to see happen next in the world?”
And I’ll ask myself the same. I’ll let you know how it goes.
*Next week, I’m writing about literary events and how to “show up” or “not show up.” It should be pretty funny. If you’re in Ohio, come see me at Ohioana Book Festival this Saturday. Info here.
You absolutely (and beautifully) captured, well, everything. I realized I’m looking for shorter guided meditations each morning so I can get on with the day! Thanks for bringing me to my senses, Jen.