A quiet evening spent sitting on the front step.

It rained today–a real, air-cleansing rain, one that soaks into the soil a good inch or so, leaving it spongy and clean-smelling. Now it’s stopped though, and the sky has cleared along the western horizon. But there are still places that threaten rain, where the clouds hang like wrinkled bedsheets put out on a line to dry on a still day.

I can hear the neighbors across the way unlocking their door, creaking it open; dogs and masters walk together, neither in a hurry, both smelling the air; a trolley hums by at the end of the street. Normally each of these things would steal my attention, but tonight I let them Doppler by as I sit.

I like the calm that settles in on a night like this. Though I’m in the city, I really could be anywhere. The delicate balance between content and resignation at another day’s passing has been struck. No need for deep thoughts tonight–best that they be allowed to slip in then fade like the evening sounds.

The after dusk cool sets in and the clouds start to move. Then so do I.

At simultaneous times throughout the city, some very odd things are going on. Some incredibly mundane things are also going on. And all these things going on at the same time get me thinking about time. Time means all kinds of different things to different people. Some people don’t have enough, others have way too much of it on their hands. We live lives that require us to be places at certain times before rushing off to the next thing. We wish we could stop time, or speed it up, depending on the situation. I started to think about this concept of time that we, or maybe just I have.

The ancient Greeks had two words for time: chronos being the linear, more quantitative measure of time, and kairos, the word for the right or opportune moment. Chronos is a pretty simple thing to deal with when you think about it. There are 24 hours a day, and X amount of things to be done in a day. You either have enough of that time or you don’t, and it fluctuates on a day to day basis. Kairos on the other hand, is something that needs to be recognized as such. It has to be seized when it comes. You have to anticipate it and be able to do the right thing when that moment strikes.

My own perspective of time changes on a daily basis, depending on my moods and whatever else is going on around me. There are days when I don’t trust my own sense of time. I’m there at the agreed upon chronos, but someone really needs to invent a kairos watch for me.

There are days when I have extremely vivid daydreams all day long. So much so, that when asked to remember the day, I have little to no idea of what happened.

For example, this morning while walking the dog through the park I saw a garbage bag on the ground, inflated by the wind. I imagined that inside that garbage bag was a dead body, blue and frozen from the cold (but not terribly gruesome, just so you know). In my daydream, I call in to work and say that I’ll be late, as I found a dead body and the police will want to speak with me for several hours. (Though, why it would take several hours is beyond me. Such are the meanderings of my mind.) Upon letting my boss know the circumstances of my tardiness, I was promptly notified that I was fired. I then proceeded for the next five minutes to postulate whether or not someone could actually be fired for that sort of thing, and were it not to be legal, what would be the recourse, and if it was legal, what, exactly, would I do?

And so it goes, all day long. I make things up, something else shiny catches my attention, and off I go on another tangent. As you can imagine, it is very productive.

I’ve looked at productivity websites, I’ve researched and applied the techniques that are supposed to turn you and your nasty procrastinating ways around–MITs (Most Important Things), doing the worst first, makings lists, giving myself rewards, breaking tasks down, building tasks up, uninterruptible periods of work time and daily goals—all with the glorious result of: nada. I got nothin’. At least nothing more than I would’ve gotten done without all the productivity proselytizing.

Someone once proposed to me that perhaps I was actually especially productive, and could get more things done in a shorter period of time than the average person. And while it’s true that sometimes I am capable of remarkable exploits of seemingly laser-guided concentration, it is also true that I am equally capable of mind-boggling feats of complete and utter mental absence. I think what it comes down to is that I’d rather be daydreaming.

Back in Olde Tymes, there was an entire class of people who were free to idle the day away in reverie. Idlers, slackers, layabouts, and dandies. Sure, no one really liked them much, especially the people who worked, but they did it anyway. And I, for one, commend them for their courage. Yes, I said it: courage. Who else would be able, in the face of being shunned and humiliated by society at large, pursue their daydreaming, and wear their badge proudly? Who else would sit idle while others toiled and sweated around them, conjuring up cockamamie schemes to further avoid labour? Only a true daydreamer, that’s who.

The chosen few, who, when asked “What the hell are you doing?!” proudly rise up and say, “Huh? I wasn’t paying attention.’

I’ll admit it. I’ve been negligent.  

The road to hell, as they say, is paved with good intentions, and I have enough asphalt for an eight-lane superhighway.  

My intention was to be Ms. Diligent Pants and post at least every three days. It’s been two months. When I decided to start a blog, my thought had been to use it as a vehicle for writing, a reason to practice really. But, when push comes to shove, and fingers come to keyboard, stuff came out, but little got posted.  

So here’s to a new leaf, it being autumn and all… 

A Bad Case of the Shoulds

Theoretically, the best part about being me is that I get to do what I want. Oversimplied? Likely. Untrue? Rarely. Easy? Not by a long shot. Because after thirty odd years (some of them very odd, indeed) of doing what I should do, it’s hard to be clear on things that I actually want to do (lying in bed, drinking, eating potato chips, and reading novels notwithstanding). In some ways, knowing what’s good for you is easy: eat right, exercise, drink plenty of water, and get plenty lots of sleep. Those are the basics. But finding out what’s good for you in other ways can be a bit more challenging, and that’s where the “shoulds” come in.

There are two types of “shoulds”. There are the ones that come from other people, whether implicit, like “You should be thinner than you are because the woman on this magazine cover is” or explicit, like “You should visit your mother more often.” Then there are the ones that come from within, like “I should really clean the kitchen” or “I should go back to school and get a Masters.” And while neither type is particularly helpful, the inner “shoulds” are much more insidious.

There’s no denying that the external “should” can wreak havoc on your self esteem at best and just be plain annoying at worst, but for most people, rationality can overcome them (that woman’s been photoshopped and mother can make do with another phone call for this month). But the from within “shoulds” are a different matter. They go deeper and have to do with the consideration of our values and how they fit with us. You’ve witnessed enough of the “shoulds” from other people and have started to internalize them so that you can no longer distinguish them from your own thoughts.

Once you know they’re there, how do you get around them? These bits of life that are like a pair of pants that you try on in the store that look great on the rack, are very stylish, and are even the right size, but once they’re on, they’re somehow not comfortable, and don’t look or feel “you”. Sometimes they’re easy to discard; they’re obviously not right. Other times, you might find that you question yourself, and those times are a little less simple.

The key might just be to learn what your style is, and be okay with it. 

That’s the big thing–being okay with it. Again, it’s the easiest thing in the world to say, hardest to do. I’m sure there are people out there who don’t succumb to these “shoulds”, people who are so solidly themselves that it’s impossible to be anything else. But I suggest they’re not the majority, and I’m sure I’m not one of them. I’m not that evolved, or mature, or fully grown or actualized if you want to use psychobabble. When you really get down to it, life might just be all about trying things on to find the “youness” of them.