Time during this quarantine is almost non-existent.
Time in the sense of hour-to-hour, time in the sense of day-to-day almost doesn't matter.
Little nuisance things like sorting the recycling, putting everything away after I use it, self-care things like using the Neti pot regularly get done because there aren't a lot of demands on my time and attention.
I have no rehearsals, no church services to attend and no language classes, so it doesn't matter what time it is. I'll be holed up here for I don't know how many weeks or months, so it being Monday or Wednesday makes no difference. I spent the first month of the second semester of my junior year of college asleep in bed with mononucleosis. I lost a month. At least here in this time void, I can accomplish something.
Perhaps I'm experiencing life the way I was meant to. Time, after all, is a conceived notion. Some cultures are still grappling with the idea of what 2:00 means. I mentioned letting our circadian rhythm take over if there aren't precise demands on our time. I'm alternating between routine and letting my mood and body dictate what I do. It's working; If I'm in a mood (one of those moods) and can't make myself sit and write, I get my body going: I exercise or clean something. If I'm physically pfft, I put my mind to work studying or practicing piano. I'm using my time well, for the most part.
How often have we told ourselves or others that we don't have the time to do this or that? The truth is, we have all time. What we don't have - because we haven't given it to ourselves - is the freedom to decide how we use it.
This is a sundial on the embassy grounds. I've walked past it before, but I finally stopped to look at it more closely. I like what it says, I am silent without the sun. It is reflective of these dark days for us, while time doesn't hold the same importance it used to.
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