Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Time Measurements

How do you measure the passage of time?

People have differing methods of acknowledging the passage of time. Marking calendar days off with large X's, turning the daily page on a journal of some type, just looking at a calendar, flipping a sheet on one of those desk-calendars with a comic-strip character theme, noticing the date on a personal computer or cell phone..........these are all ways we mark twenty-four-hour date changes.

In past millenniums, ancient man noted the rising and setting of the sun and then took a sharp object to make a mark on stone. Another ancient method involved reading sun dials and, later, complicated machinery to act as a calendar.

I began thinking about how I mark time, this morning, when I put the new pages, for the next fifteen months, in my planner/agenda. This process also involves re-writing calendar notations from some temporary pages to the 'permanent' pages that I just received. My SO and I try to map out our calendars, in very broad strokes, for six to nine months in advance. This helps avoid what I call 'calendar collisions' and enables us to keep our schedules clear for family events and visits to family members. In other words, it helps reinforce our priorities for how we spend our time.

As I paged through the planner pages for the next several months, I realized that other, seemingly trivial activities act as measurements for the passage of time for me: a haircut date, appointments for six-month dental and contact check-ups, or future singing dates for the choir I coach.

It appears that existence is predicated by pre-planning, or, at least, mine is. I wonder what life would be like if I never filled out a calendar page in advance, but just arose every day and thought, "What should I do today?"

This would be spontaneity in its truest sense. Liberating? Emancipating? Unfettering? Or just unrealistic? I have to ponder this one.

If you have tried living life with zero pre-planning, let me hear from you. I'm ready for a lesson.

Ancora imparo