FINDING
TIME
TOM BENDER
November 1993
When we built
our home some years ago, we tried to build for eternity. We built well,
and carefully. We mortised and pegged the joints to hold firm in hurricane
winds. We sealed and resealed openings to keep out the water from winter
storms that brings rot and termites. We chose the materials with care, and
put love into their joining. It took us six months, without power or power
tools, to reach the point where we could move in.
The next morning the house was gone, burned to a mass of smoldering charred
wood.
Our minds battled to believe and to not believe what had happened. As the
reality began to sink in, my first agonized thought, over and over, was,
"Six months of my life, of love and labor - gone, vanished, as if it
never existed."
I tried to balance it out. Every six months of my life vanishes.
Do many leave more than a pile of charcoal at the end? What did this six
months leave me with besides charcoal? Was this loss so great? Our friend
adn neighbor had died a month earlier. A whole future was lost there - was
there any comparison?
Occasionally it takes events as drastic as these to get us to discover what
is really rare and precious in our lives. Perhaps that event is a medical
diagnosis, perhpas a narrowly avoided traffic accident. It might, however,
be something as small as built up frustrations with the everyday baggage
of responsibilities we've taken on that cause us to look afresh at our lives
and try to sort the wheat from the chaff.
Sometimes we think the problem would be solvved if we could live forever.
There would be time for everything! Then we visit older friends with empty
lives, whose every day is a penance of endless time without fulfillment.
Forever is not an answer.
Several times I've had the detritus of existence scrapped off of my life
and have been given the opportunity to choose afresh which burdens I wanted
to accept. Our fire did that, and helped me learn what was valuable and
what was a burden about possessions. Several years before, tired of possessions
that seemed to multiply their demands for care, maintenance, and use, I
sold and gave away almost everything I had, left my job, and went on the
road. Freedom! For a while. Eventually, I found that a freedom which did
not give a leverage point to use myself well, to accomplish things, no longer
seemed a real freedom.
After we rebuilt our house, we lived for seven years without radio, TV,
or newspapers. People were appalled. Didn't we have a responsibility to
keep up with the news? It turned out that we didn't miss much - we only
became aware of the incredible redundancy with which we are deluged by what
someone has determined to be "news". As we prepared to get on
a plane, we'd hear someone discussing something. A couple of hours and several
thousand miles later, we'd hear someone else virtually finish the same sentence.
Is that news?
There are times when our witnessing and sharing the heroism, power, or grief
of events is important. That can affect our lives. And there are events
both good and bad that should not go unwitnessed and unacknowledged. But
most of what we spend our time watching is in truth trivial.
Ignoring "news" never keep us from knowing what was happening
in the world. The redundancy is far too great for that to happen. It just
saved us from saturation with things we couldn't affect and shouldn't waste
time worrying about.
Unknowingly, in doing this we moved our lives out of the "crisis"
mentality which fills the world of bureaucratic "news", and into
a more holistic and nurturing way of participating and responding to events.
This removed a major sense of time pressure from our actions and allowed
us to develop fuller and more fitting responses rather than knee-jerking
with whatever could be done "immediately".
We're constantly urged with the cry, "Crisis!", to drop everything
else and put all our energy into responding to one thing. Yet every "crisis"
has multiple causes which any meaningful response must address. And any
rightful action taken in response probably helps "solve" many
other problems as well.
We found we had gained several hours a day, freedom from needless worrying
about the "crises of the day", and freedom from the endless barrage
of advertisements. Not a bad deal for the price.
When it became clear to me that the things I wanted to accomplish with my
life were things it was unlikely anyone would ever pay me for, a big decision
was necessary. Either I gave up my dreams and earned a living, or I'd have
to learn to live my life differently so I could have time to pursue my dreams.
I started to look closely at living patterns. Where does our time go? How
much goes to earn money, and what do we need that money for? How much went
to pay taxes? How much for mortgages, cars, TV's, vacations? What further
time commitment did each of those "purchases" entail?
What I found was interesting. Running on the treadmill of modern living
didn't get us any farther any faster than simple living. And the luxuries
of simple living were closer to being soul-satisfying and life-enriching
ones, while the luxuries of a fast and flashy life were in the large part
ultimately unfulfilling.
So we built our own home, with our own labor, and no mortgage. We found
a diet which is at once healthier, tastier, cheaper and less demanding on
the world. We've invested in friends instead of stocks. We watch sunsets
and moonrise in stead of TV. We make music instead of consuming it. We heat
with the sun and wood from our land. I work at home, and our elder son home-schooled
with me when he graduated from our alternative elementary school.
Life isn't all peak experiences and starry-eyed chasing of dreams. Someone
still has to take care of dirty baby bottoms and all the other cleanup,
maintenance and ongoing work of living. Eating nothing but desserts would
make anyone sick. But the patterns and chores of everyday living return
us a deepening and relatedness, and give us preparation and nurturing for
new experiences for which we rarely give credit.
This is possible, however, only when we give those everyday acts our undivided
time, attention, and commitment. It won't happen if we view them as something
to be brushed aside, avoided, delegated, or hur ried through to get on to
the real parts of life. When a pile of clean clothes, a sparkling
window or a well-cooked meal give us pleasure in both the doing and the
product, we are nurtured rather than drained by them.
What I was learning, I discovered later, was the real and positive meaning
of austerity of all things! I found that austerity does not exclude
all richness or enjoyments in our lives. It does not mean a cold and barren
existence. What it does do is remind us to avoid those things distracting
from or destructive of personal relatedness - what keeps us from others
or from our goals in life.
Affluence, it turns out, has a real cost. Compared to austerity, it does
not discriminate between what is wise and useful and what is merely possible.
Affluence demands impossible endless commitments of time and energy. It
does this because it causes us to forego those things necessary for good
relations and a truly satisfying life in order to make time and space for
unnecessary things. And many of those unnecessary things act to damage or
destroy the things we truly wish out of life. Like a garden, our lives need
to be weeded if they are to produce a good crop.
We hunger for rich and powerful experiences and bemoan the empty and boring
ones which fill our lives. Instead, we should be relearning how to make
each and every experience one filled with meaning, love, and joy!
How many hours a day are we inundated by TV or radio - and why do we fear
their silence? Pay attention to the causes of the emptiness we try to fill
with TV and shopping and focus on deepening our places and relationships
to truly eliminate that emptiness. Think how many hours of our lives we
spend being "educated", and how many of those hours felt endlessly
boring and pure drudgery. And think how much more quickly and interestingly
we have learned something we wanted to find out about and set out to do
that by ourselves. Time? The difference there alone is enough hours to accomplish
almost anything we would wish with our lives!
A Lummi Indian friend told me once that when they get together to talk over
a problem they form a circle and set a rock in the middle. The rock is to
remind them of patience. We need such a touchstone in all our actions to
remind us that getting to the end of a song is not the goal of singing,
nor of scrubbing floors, weeding a garden, or grocery shopping.
We've created a world which splits us through the heart. We divide our time
and lives between work and leisure. But rarely do we allow ourselves the
leisure in our work to allow it to be enriching, to allow us to develop
and apply our skills and interact rewardingly with others. And rarely in
our leisure do we allow ourselves the purpose and reward of doing things
of value and benefit to others and ourselves.
Wendell Berry once wrote about the beauty of an old woman crocheting - a
job she knows she will never finish - and that the joy of the time spent
making something beautiful is the real product she was creating. The Inuit
used to throw away a carving once finished - the joy again was in the making!
We need to account for both the inner and outer products of our work.
Our concern with "time" is a false one. The concepts and pressures
of time are generated out of wrongful action and purposes. Greed inflates
the importance of time to where it controls our lives.
We need instead to learn how to focus more fully on the present. We need
to learn to choose what is important to do and not do, and to rediscover
how to allow ourselves the freedom to be fully immersed in what we are doing
- be it extraordinary or mundane.
Washing dishes without the "pressure of time" doesn't take significantly
more or less time. But it becomes "timeless" - how long it takes
isn't that important, and the experience isn't clouded by the constant pressure
to be done and on to other, more important, things.
That pressure changes our lives - whether talking with a stranger or doing
some work which we could otherwise love. It causes us to draw back from
opportunities which arise during our day which might be more time-consuming.
Yet these can be the very opportunities that result in deeper and richer
relationships and lives. A vicious circle develops where whatever we're
doing gives us less and less reward, and we feel more and more strongly
the urges to spend less and less time on it!
Some people have concluded that time is more scarce and precious than money.
They say we should go to school longer, work longer, sleep less. But where
would we find new dreams, and what would happen to that wonderful place
in-between sleep and wakefulness where the solution to problems so often
arise?
Time vanishes when we are happy and excited and immersed in what we are
doing. That is where we and our lives belong. Take a deep breath, ....relax!
Read this again - slowly, this time - and see!
TOM BENDER
38755 Reed Rd.
Nehalem OR 97131 USA
503-368-6294
© November 1993
tbender@nehalemtel.net