Time – and How Not to Use It.

[Picture from walking path at work - illustrative of a good way to spend your free moments.]

Sunday I returned from a run and decided to do what little post-run stretching I do in the back yard. It was warm and sunny and Shana and the Dude were gardening. As I lay on my back looking up at the clouds it hit me – when was the last time I laid on my back and looked up at the clouds? When I was 12 years old? No, better make that 10? If you think about it – or maybe if you don’t think about it – it almost feels like you are on a giant ride (let’s call it Earth) and you can feel it spin you around – forward.

On a related note I read this interesting piece about time, and how we use it – or don’t – and working – or not working:

Yes, we're Americans. We are, by and large, utterly terrified of silence, stillness, spaciousness, the doing of nothing so as to feel the totality of everything. Meditation, for most, is disquieting and strange. Deep quiet feels weird and dangerous, a void aching to be filled. The Internet has us convinced that the world is a roaring fire hose of urgent information, and if you can't swallow it all, well, something must be wrong with you.

Mark Morford Hat tip: Austin Kleon.

Related – in a way: Sitting in a meeting Wednesday. Everyone had their laptops open. One colleague turned to another and said, “Four emails! How can you only have four unopened emails in your in-box?”

Both this colleague and I have close to 200+ emails unopened at any time. I’m kind of an email slacker – if the subject line or sender doesn’t jump out at me, the email is ignored. This other guy, he’s a getting-things-done kind of guy, but even he can’t keep up. On the other hand, at least one colleague does keep up with email. So how does she do it?

“Every morning at 4:45 when I’m eating breakfast, I read email, sorting and deleting as I go along,” she replied.

Four-Forty-Five in the morning! Ugh – another example of how the corporate rat race is one I’ve lost. There are days when I’m certain I’m not even entered in the race.