In 1982 Larry Dossey, an American physician, coined the term “time sickness” to describe the obsessive belief that “time is getting away, that there isn’t enough of it, and that you must pedal faster and faster to keep up.”
About a year ago, my place of employment was undergoing a huge renovation. My manager was on vacation at the time, a fact that I often look back on bitterly. In the disorganized chaos, not only was I in charge of maintaining some semblance of order, but I had to assume my manager’s duties, as well as attending to my own responsibilities in a disorganized nightmare of a mess. About 2 days shy of his return I was approached by the boss, the owner of the business. He knew the effort I was putting in. He knew how seriously I took my job, and he saw the frustration I was feeling.
He took me aside that day and told me that I needed to slow down. He told me that work is just work; after work, you go home, maybe have a beer, you listen to some music and you forget about it. You need to live a double life to a certain extent, a work life and a home life. It’s important not to let work consume your every thought. He closed this conversation by telling me that my manager was back in 2 days, and until then I would have to tough it out. But next week, he was giving me 3 days off in the middle of the week. He gave me directions to his cabin out on Lake Winnipeg, and he told me to have a good time. He would take care of the details with my manager.
Thinking back, I deeply believe that the lesson I learned that day was one of the most important things I’ve ever been taught.
The two days I spent at his cabin with a lady friend of mine were a couple of the best I’ve ever had. We sat on the beach, and though the water was too cold to go in, we watched pelicans in our lawn chairs. These huge birds were sitting in the water, bobbing up and down on the waves; when they flew overhead, they cast shadows that blocked out the sun. We picked up stones and shells from the sand as keepsakes and took out of focus pictures to help us remember. To remind us how good the simple life can be.
In the afternoon, we would go for walks along the shore, or nap, or read. In the evening, we would watch the sun go down over the water.
Those were slow, wonderful days. Every day should be so relaxed, so peaceful. I remember more about those two days than I do about the month-long renovation we were undergoing at the time.
The compulsive behaviour of time sickness, the notion that we all need to keep moving faster, doing more and not stopping, is destructive and more importantly, it’s incorrect. I’m not advocating laziness because laziness is unrewarding. However, if you work hard when you work, it’s okay to not be busy all the time. It’s okay to enjoy the little things like coffee with a friend on a Sunday, a cold beer and a hockey game, or a nap in the early afternoon. Appreciation for the life you have stems from the sweet moments in between the daily grind, not from how many tasks you can complete at your 9–5. Do your job as best you can, but every moment after that is yours to make the most of. Sometimes, making the most of your time means no more than taking a deep breath and enjoying the moment.
To further explore the case for living slowly, check out In Praise of Slow by Carl Honoré.
Also, be sure to bookmark DannyManitoba.com, and check back weekly for lessons I’ve learned about coping with life and enjoying the experience.
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