IN THIS DAY AND AGE BEING TIME-POOR is a reality all must contend with; some more so, some less so—but all necessarily so. And when we have lots on, people who’re naturally engaging in life at a more pedestrian pace can easily infuriate us—revealing an obviously expressible envy; a.k.a. time-envy.
Before we know it all the enjoyment is sapped out of life as we inevitably crash into our beds at the end of a long day.
And why wouldn’t we be just a teensy bit envious? They have what we need. They have more time (it seems) than they need; time even to “waste.” We need the ‘extra time,’ after all. They should pitch in, lend a hand, or at least give us some of their time.
But, extra time—as a concept—is more than a little false. None of us gets any more than our 24-hour day; that’s official. It’s a folly to want extra time and we, of a sense, know it. Yet, we still cruel ourselves, whinge and complain, about it.
And still we have this time problem. It’s not going away. If only we can get the next two or three activities sorted and out of the way, then we’ll be set, we say to ourselves. Or so it seems.
We forget in these moments, in our living for the immediate future—thirty minutes or a couple of hours away, that the present can still be enjoyed. We only have to decide for it.
“Swollen” moments are instances in time of crowding and that overburdening noisy reality—our minds abuzz with much stress; cognition pushed to capacity.
I, in my swollen moment, can just as easily decide for eustress as distress—that is, I (and you) can decide for pleasure over pain. It’s an impact of the will and a heart commitment to match. It generally is that easy.
© 2010 S. J. Wickham.