Spring rethinking about how I spend my time -slowliving vlog.mp4

I don't have anything close to a daily routine per se. Every morning is different, and I'm completely unable to follow through with most repetitive practices. Most of my days are work days, where very little interesting happens. However, now and then, when I'm all caught up, a day off is in order. A day reserved to rise with the sun, to simply be, to do exactly what I love to do for every minute of it. These days are holy ones, in which time loses its meaning. If you have ever experienced a day where you forget about the passing hours due to pure enjoyment of what you're doing, you know how special it can be. When I spend enough time wandering the cascades, I lose myself. Maybe I simply stepped into a fairy circle, but suddenly everything happens at a gentle pace. There's no ticking clock to remind me of the hours that rule our lives. I'm completely connected to a world of my own design, relishing the beauty of the alpine flowers. I wander and wander and mutter to myself as random thoughts go through my head. For example, wouldn't the yellow bells make fantastic hats for fairies? And with that, suddenly it's the evening, and the day has passed me by. I once read a book about a little boy. He lived very long ago, when there were few people on this earth. He was part of a tribe who lived by the sun and the seasons. These people didn't have minutes or seconds. The child saw this, and thought that he could help his people if he measured the days, to better predict the future. The best days for hunting, the best days for berry picking. He invented a crude version of a sundial, and he marked the hours. This new knowledge excited him, and soon he began to mark shorter periods of time. As a grown man, he marked the minutes. As a white-bearded elder, he marked the seconds. And suddenly, his final day on earth presented itself, and he wept that he had never realized that despite how he counted his days, he had not stopped to think that his days were already counted. He had let them slip through his fingers, and with his final breath, he warned his people to be careful of how they use the knowledge of time, lest it rule over their lives. I read this story initially when I was a child, and unfortunately, I can't remember the book I read it in, but that little boy stayed with me. There are so many sayings in my culture that pertain to time. Words like, be efficient, don't waste your time, time is money, you're losing time, or perhaps the most terrifying, don't waste the best time of your life. It gives time an enormous power over us, as if we need to fear misusing it. I don't think this is necessarily wrong, as our lives are very precious, but I do think that sometimes we put an overly high value on being productive, and using our time in a way that achieves a goal, such as having a highly productive morning routine that I absolutely cannot follow through with, no matter how hard I try. In fact, maybe just sitting, or thinking, or not doing anything particular at all, can be a very productive use of our time. Advertisements often suggest ways to save time and live more efficiently, as if that should be our ultimate goal. After spending a day wandering the mountains, I think I've had one of the most productive days of my life, and I have nothing to show for it except a pine cone and the speckled shell of a quail's egg. But I felt truly free, and know that I didn't waste one second simply enjoying the day. I hope you take some time to simply be, to forget what you're doing tomorrow, or the day after, and disconnect from the clock. You may be surprised by what you find. Have a lovely day or night.