Satori, time — Stephen on 19 September 2008 @ 11:08 AM — 0 comments
I absolutely HAVE TO reset my clock to a different schedule. Juliette and I have been the early birds for this entire trip, getting up around 6 or 7 and launching into our days, crashing normally around 11 (or 10) in the evening and starting the whole cyle the following day. This is not in any way normal for the people of Peru, who seem to be (if our hosts Jaoquin and Ricardo are any indication) quite the night owls. Last night we arrived around 8, had dinner out around 11 and then Juliette crashed while I went to a birthday party with Joaquin and Ricardo. Since this was well past my normal bedtime, I was pretty out of it and I would guess that my party conversation could be compared (rather unfavorably) with watching paint dry. After that, Joaquin was still full of energy and wanted to go out dancing, but I finally made it back to bed at their apartment. Tonight Juliette leaves to go back to London, and I have a big all night dance party to attend with our hosts. I am going to try to take a big disco nap and get an intraveneous caffiene drip so that I can begin to shift my schedule forward by a couple of hours. I have it so rough, don’t I? Wish me luck.
Satori, time — Stephen on 31 May 2008 @ 12:33 PM — 3 comments
I had a breakfast date with a guy this morning for 10am. We set the date a few days ago, and didn’t bother to confirm, so I was ready for the possibility that he wouldn’t show (as happens often here if one doesn’t confirm). So imagine my surprise when he shows up at 10am on the dot. We had a lovely breakfast and conversation covering a wide range of topics, and he seems like a real sweetheart. As the topic of appointments and time came up, he was in total agreement with me over my assessment and admitted that it was something that bothered him as well. When I asked him what was different about his conception of time and engagement from the rest of the populace, he had an interesting take on it. He told me he thought it was at least partially related to the culture of religion, not just place. His family is Protestant (only about 6% of the population here), and he felt because of that he was raised with a somewhat different ethic with regard to promises and engagements. Interesting.
Why is it so ingrained in us? Is is the fear of death, of non-existence? Is our relationship to time inborn, or culturally nurtured? I tend to think it is a little of both actually. My experience in a variety of other cultures has shown me that we need not be as time (and therefore youth and death) obsessed as we are taught to be in the West. I have learned that the present and eternity can be one and the same, and I have learned to find peace in the now. And yet, this tick-tock is still largely my frame, no matter how much I try to break free of it. I know in my head that time obsession is a frame of mind, yet deep inside me its imagined importance keeps creeping, and rearing it’s ugly head on occasion. As June 10th (the day I fly to LA) approaches, I feel the weight of some unknown decision that some part of me is telling myself I must make. Will I return to Mexico in a month or two (to continue learning Spanish and work for a time)? Will I take a job in the US? Will it be in SF, LA, NYC? Will I take the rest of my savings and travel South America? Will I return to a job in technology (the easiest path) or will I try to work as a writer or something else?
Part of the reasons these are weighing on me a bit is that a date (June 10th) is approaching. And part of the reason is that I feel at a crossroads and don’t know what I want. But really I am not bound (at least not yet) by anything other than some self imposed perception. I don’t really have to do anything until my savings run out, and that won’t be for at least another 6 months. My wiser, inner self is telling me to chill out.