Loose Time
“How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.”
I have an old friend, Annie, whose brain never rests. We met as community development colleagues many years ago. But while I had a single focus that fuelled my vocation she, in addition to her ‘work’, was also a school trustee who, while completing a graduate degree, also found time to be heavily involved in interfaith collaboration and other volunteer work. I would pick up my ringing phone and, without a greeting, she would immediately launch into a subject. I remember one weekend when three of us escaped to Galiano Island for some R&R – I woke in the middle of the night sensing a presence in my bedroom. Annie stood leaning against the doorframe, willing me to wake up so she could discuss some thoughts swirling in her head.
Annie moved away a few years ago and became an MLA in a neighbouring province, actively fighting for the residents in her constituency and for the broader issues that continue to drive her. Her party lost in the last election but I am hopeful that they will rise to the top in the next election – which seems likely when I look at the dismal job the United Conservative Party of Alberta (UCP) is doing.
So, earlier this month when she posted on Facebook that she was working on some curriculum, I jumped to the conclusion that she had taken a teaching job at a local college or university. But no, Annie was responding to the horrible curriculum of the UCP government. In a follow-up message, she wrote that she was considering some opportunities but that she is currently enjoying loose time, which she hopes will allow her time to do more writing.
I had never heard the term ‘loose time’ but immediately knew what she meant. I wondered where the term came from. Was it a translation from French, her native language? Had she heard it somewhere? But no, it was a term she had made up. She shared that for her, loose time is unprogrammed time, unconstrained and without a need to go somewhere. This pandemic has gifted her loose time. She said that if there was no pandemic she would be attending meetings and getting together with friends but now she plans her time differently. She sets up a list of things she needs and wants to do during the week and then lets the days unfold.
Loose time is how I would also describe the rhythm of my days, gifted to me not so much by this pandemic but by this stage of my life. My career is winding down and I am focusing on the passions I want to explore. This is a time of rewirement for me rather than retirement. There is no schedule for what I want to pursue. My writing is driven by sparks of creativity and enthusiasm that may drive me to my desk in the early morning, late afternoon, or middle of the night. I may write all day long, or I may not write for weeks!
In her book of essays, Upstream, Mary Oliver wrote –
It is six A.M., and I am working. I am absentminded, reckless, heedless of social obligations, etc. It is as it must be. The tire goes flat, the tooth falls out, there will be a hundred meals without mustard. The poem gets written. I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame. Neither do I have guilt. My responsibility is not to the ordinary, or the timely. It does not include mustard, or teeth. It does not extend to the lost button, or the beans in the pot. My loyalty is to the inner vision, whenever and howsoever it may arrive. If I have a meeting with you at three o’clock, rejoice if I am late. Rejoice even more if I do not arrive at all.
Certainly, my writing benefits from loose time, however loose time embraces a much broader context for me at this stage of life. I am reluctant to commit to anything ongoing these days, as I want to leave my time loose, free to go where I want and do what I want. On those mornings that I wake up early to brilliant sunshine and chickadees singing in the tree outside my bedroom, I head off along the river with Tucker for long, slow walks. When Canada Post rings the doorbell and I find a new book leaning against the front door I may immediately stop what I’m doing, pour myself a cup of tea, and start reading. Loose time means afternoon naps in the backyard. Or it may be a Facebook message sent out to friends who live near, anyone fancy a walk into the village right now?
Loose time may also result in cancellations. A last-minute opportunity to spend some time with my girls takes precedence over an online class. Struggling to get those words on the tip of my tongue to the page may mean that my yoga mat remains rolled up in the corner.
I have written previously about my lack of routine now that I have fewer responsibilities – which I had been thinking might be a problem! But I am coming to realize that I like the rhythm of my days. This doesn’t mean that I don’t get anything accomplished. Like Annie, I still plan, in a very general sense, how I want my week to unfold. I am using a handy Moleskin planner this year with weekly and monthly pages, as well as sections for projects, goals, and blank pages for musings and reflections. Every Monday morning I sit down for 30 minutes and plan out my week. What does that look like? On the weekly blank page in my planner I list blocks of time – five 3-hour blocks to write, four 2-hour blocks to do research, a scattering of walks, at least 2 social connections, and somewhere I fit in a bit of housework. These blocks then find their natural place as my week unfolds.
Understand though that loose time is not wasted time; it is not about doing nothing. As Annie Dillard wrote, how we spend our days is how we spend our lives, and I don’t plan to idle away my time, as there is much I still want to accomplish in the coming years. But loose time is about setting my own pace and taking the time to explore tributaries and shoreline as I paddle north.
I have friends who fill their days with activities and structured routine - it works for them. And I have friends who, like me, just go where the wind blows them! How do you spend your days?