Little Time

A thought came to me recently—literally as a statement that popped into my head: “Because I have a little time, I have little time.” Now, I realize that sentence can be considered to be baffling, trite, or even obvious; or it may just be paradoxical. Trying to parse it out a little bit, I played with it for a while, to see if it really meant anything to me, or to reject it as just another vapid thought.

As I rolled it around the skull, an interesting interpretation of this enigmatic phrase came to mind. I have been blessed for about three decades now to live in a situation that has allowed me to take the time to put attention to most things that I encounter in my daily life. Long ago I left the fast lane—a big city career—for a slower pace out here in the woods. The move gave me the luxury of being able to devote time to things that come along, things which appear to be meaningful to me, or just interesting. Thus I have been given a little time (the most precious gift we have) to devote to things I encounter in life. I do not have to rush on by—unable to pause and pay attention to them.

The benefits that this has brought into my life are sundry. I have been able to open up to many more fascinating experiences than I otherwise could have. I've been able to explore, to delve into things that would have, in other circumstances, passed me by, unnoticed. Countless times I have found myself at some task, for example, such as sawing wood for next winter, when I notice an unusual activity unfolding nearby. Maybe a bird just did something puzzling. Knowing that I can cut this wood tomorrow as timely as today, I can lay the saw down and allot some time to watching the bird. I can observe and learn. I can even go inside on the spot and do a little research in one of my bird books or troll the internet.

What I often find happening is that I'm quickly consumed with several simultaneous research topics: I've come upon yet another book to read: an idea has popped up about how better to modify the bird feeder; an internet article has led me on a multi-faceted exploration of the nature of my gut biome; a neighbor calls with a question about something he saw in last night's sky, and it sends me off seeking an answer; I go outdoors to check the oil in the car and end up getting sidetracked with four other homestead duties or attractions. And on it goes.

The result? My life becomes so full of immediate and fascinating activities that I no longer have time for social chatter, popular entertainment, forwarding cute emails, or arguing politics. I even try to elude most phone calls.

So I find myself in the odd situation where I have little time for these passing social activities, mostly because I have the leisure time to expend on those things I've come to value far more: the natural world surrounding me and the countless contingencies that I constantly encounter.