About Time

Every year, during the holidays, my husband and I watch the same movie. The holidays are not the holidays without watching it. We plan the entire evening around watching this movie - what we’re eating and drinking, and making sure we put our phones down and just watch the movie. We love this movie so much that for my bridal shower six years ago, my best friend rented out a theater so that we could watch the movie on the big screen. The soundtrack features several of our favorite songs, including the song for our first dance at our wedding. I could go on, and on, and on.

Each year, I cry at different parts. One year, a particular scene will touch me. The next year, it’s a completely different scene. I never know what will hit me each time we watch it.

So, why do we love this movie so much?

It’s because it’s About Time.

That’s the name of the movie. And what it’s about. Simple, right?

Maybe. Maybe not.

I haven’t spent much time reading what’s been written about this movie. I’m not trying to over-analyze my love of it. But, for this essay I did look up the Wikipedia page and I love this description of how the movie idea came to the writer/director, Richard Curtis:

“The genesis of the idea came when Curtis was eating lunch with a friend and the subject of happiness came up. Upon admitting he was not truly happy in life, the conversation turned towards him describing an ideal day. From here Curtis realised that the day of the lunch, for him, constituted such a day, which led to him deciding to write a film about "how you achieve happiness in ordinary life". Thinking that the concept was too "simple" he decided to add a time travel element to the film.”

Let’s read that last sentence again:

Thinking that the concept was too “simple” he decided to add a time travel element to the film.

We can’t have a movie about “how you achieve happiness in ordinary life” without science fiction.

Why is that?

Perhaps it’s because our world, our culture, is so obsessed with and confined by the seeming scarcity of time that we can’t imagine what life would be like outside of time without bending the laws of physics.

In other words, we feel like we have to create a different physical reality to achieve happiness.

But do we?

I’ve been thinking a lot about time recently. Not the movie, to clarify, just time itself and asking questions about it.

Questions like:

• Is time just the rotation of the Earth along its orbital path around the sun?
• If that’s all it is, why are we obsessed with it?
• If it’s the impact of seasons, why do we worry about not having enough time - the seasons come back, don’t they?*
• Does our physical environment have a bearing on how concepts like time were created?
• Who invented time and when?

And my favorite:

• Is time the cost of being in relationship with other people?

I could find answers for some of the questions above, but I’m only going to explore my favorite question, because it feels like exactly the kind of thing I should do with Do Less, Better.

So, what do I mean when I ask the question - is time the cost of being in relationship with other people?

First, let’s acknowledge that time was invented. It was invented across cultures around the world, but it was nevertheless, invented. We are not born with an inherent sense of the concept of time. We are taught the concept of time.

And it’s really hard to shake once you learn it.

Second, I don’t mean the cost is time itself but rather time as a concept is the cost. To be in relationship with others, there eventually had to be a concept like time that we shared so that we could communicate and make plans.

Imagine a world without the shared concept of time, even at the most basic level. How would we ever agree to meet someone somewhere if we didn’t have the concept of time? Telling a friend “Let’s go have a drink” is easy enough, but how would you know when to meet with each other if we didn’t have time? Even saying “when the sun is setting” implies a concept of time.

I control my schedule. I have that flexibility and freedom to, if I feel like it, not do “anything”** for a day and simply rest. Being my own boss for the last several years, I’ve gotten pretty accustomed to time being more fluid for me. The only moment I really have to look at the time is when I am meeting with someone else.

During the weeks when I don’t have a lot of meetings or appointments, the days seem to meander for me. I have a rhythm to the day, yes, but it doesn’t follow a schedule based on a clock - not entirely.

Cue one of my most common statements:

I’m privileged.

That’s why I can write this. My privilege gives me this flexibility and freedom and not everyone has that. I get it.

This might be why, on the days I have a lot of meetings or appointments, I feel the stress of that more acutely. It’s exhausting to run from one meeting to another. And I think it might be more the stress of carrying the load of making sure I have enough time for all those meetings, conversations, appointments, events, etc.

I fall into the trap of believing that time is scarce.

Is it scarce? Or am I just still learning how to prioritize?

This brings me back to About Time (the movie).

If you’ve never seen the movie, I don’t want to ruin it for you but I kind of have to give away the end to wrap this essay up. (Sorry not sorry?)

The plot is fairly straightforward. A young man learns that he can travel back in time and re-do moments of his life. Hilarity and tenderness ensue, as do hard truths about what he can and can’t change. His father mentors him. Time travel is a family trait (but only for the men in the family - don’t get me started on that part) and he offers a bit of advice to his son at the end, which the son takes a step further.

The father tells his son to live each day, experiencing all the frustration and trouble and such of living. Then, live that day again, but this time noticing all the little moments of joy and love. The son does this for a bit, but then he decides to live each day as if it were the second without feeling like he needs to travel back and try the day over again. He finds happiness in the time that he has and the joy that fills his life.

He learns to recognize the moments, big, and especially the small, that make up his life and that give it meaning.

It’s a beautiful message, and one that gets me a little teary just thinking about it.

If time is the cost of being in relationship with others, as described above, then the trick for all of us is to enjoy the concept of time as much as we possibly can.

There will be days that you rush from one thing to the next and feel like you can’t catch your breath. Maybe most of your days are like that.

That’s okay.

It’s okay to have a full life. It’s okay to have lots of things to do.

And, in the fullness of that life, make sure you’re still feeling the joy.

Prioritize the little moments as much as you prioritize the big. Recognize them all for how they create and fill up your life.

Know that it’s okay to pause for a second and admire that piece of art, or the clouds, or whatever catches your eye.

Take the slow line at Target and talk with Ira, the septuagenarian (maybe?) cashier. (Seriously, I always pick Ira’s line at Target in Bozeman - always.)

Enjoy the found time when a meeting is canceled or you’re an hour early to the bank opening and all you can do is sit on a bench and enjoy the sunshine.***

If time is the cost of doing these things, then so be it. I’m in a better relationship with myself and others because I do these things. My life is full and more joyful the more I accept time as the cost.

Because I’m starting to see time less as a resource that I’m using, and more of how we just organize ourselves as a species. Which means I don’t feel that it’s nearly as scarce.

And maybe that’s the point of all of this - seeing that there is less scarcity and more abundance than what we’ve been told all our lives.

*The climate crisis, of course, makes this statement less true.

**No such thing as not doing anything - rest IS doing something and it’s really important.

***True story - Jake and I didn’t remember than there is such a thing as banker hours and we were an hour early. It was a glorious hour of found time in downtown Bozeman when the streets were still quite, the sun was shining, and we could enjoy each other’s company.