“I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.” Alan Watts
“I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness – it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” Brene Brown
“Life isn’t a matter of milestones, but of moments.” Rose Kennedy
“If you abandon the present moment, you cannot live the moments of your daily life deeply.” Thich Nhat Hanh
In the last episode of the TV Series Bear, a sign is removed from the wall stating, “Every second counts.” In the stressful conditions of high performing restaurants, time does matter; the food needs to be prepared on time, customers need to be served in a timely fashion, and all requests and surprises need to be addressed as quickly as possible. Under those conditions, time pressures take their toll.
While the Bear has been a confusing mix of presentation styles, the underlying theme in the series is how work culture impacts our behavior and what it takes to create a more humane environment. To me, the producers/writers wanted to show how respect and excellence can co-exist and how they are manifested in the culture. The underlying tension throughout the series revolves around how we respond to deadlines and how we treat each other in the process. In the third season, the series carves out vignettes of intense interpersonal dialogues that focus on the power of moments over minutes.
I was conditioned as a child never to be late. I can’t remember a time when my parents ever kept anyone waiting. If they told someone they would be somewhere at a particular point in time, then you could bank on them being there—no excuses. My mother used to jump out of the golf cart before it even stopped, so she could hit her next shot without making anyone else wait. Not exactly, the kind of behavior you see on golf courses and beyond today. I still suffer from the pathological punctuality instilled in me from that level of compulsiveness to do things that are not even particularly meaningful.
This phenomenon of pathological punctuality is manifested by compulsive urges to be on time or 5 minutes early. The thought of missing a deadline by even a few precious minutes causes a physical reaction. When you spend time with people who are less driven by deadlines, you realize how deeply rooted this urge can be. I drive my family a bit crazy because I always insist on giving myself more than enough time to arrive at my destination or appointment with time to spare. It’s not worth the stress to me to even take the chance of arriving two minutes late.
Last week, my grand-twins were visiting and we planned to go for a boat ride. As soon as a time was lodged in my head, logically or not, I became obsessed with meeting that deadline. On this particular day, I had no other commitments and there was no urgency whatsoever in leaving at any given time. But I had a time in my head that kept shouting, “WE MUST LEAVE ON TIME.” So, when the need to buy snacks for kids, take care of last minute bathroom needs, and sneak in some shopping delayed our departure, we left an hour later than the appointed time. By the time, we pulled out of the dock, I was Grandpa Grump.
It was a beautiful day – no wind, 80 degrees, cool waters, and no need for urgency. We were about to experience precious moments with the children I love most in the world, who were growing older way too fast. It didn’t matter. I had noon in my mind and “every second counts.” Meaningless minutes were trumping magical moments. Fortunately, I was able to privately name my neurosis and put my focus where it belonged. We had a glorious time tubing, swimming, and simply enjoying the privileges of living in pristine Northern Michigan.
The tyranny of time is always with us, whether we are working in a restaurant or just trying to navigate the demands of day-to-day existence. How do we enter into and appreciate the eternity of sublime moments when we experience the constant pressure to make the most of each minute of every day?
To be clear, I do think there are some positive aspects to punctuality. One, it builds credibility to complete projects on time when someone is counting on a task being done by a certain date. Two, it is a sign of commitment to show up when you say you are going to be somewhere. Three, being on time shows respect to the person whose plans depend on you honoring the schedule or following through on commitments. Finally, being conscious of the time pressures other people are facing increases sensitivity and empathy. For example, making a server in a restaurant wait for you to decide what you want to order or asking him or her endless questions about the various choices feels really self-indulgent to me. To me, it’s rude to make other people wait because you are late or can’t decide – it sends the signal that your time is more valuable than their time. So, before we over-index on moments instead of minutes, let’s acknowledge that punctuality has benefits as well. Having said that, however, It seems to me that we could all gain from putting more importance on moments than minutes. And, hey, these days, moments represent far more opportunity for joy than the endless minutes of news bulletins.
As I reflect upon my life growing up and growing old, I have to admit that I missed a lot of magical moments by being deeply committed to meaningless minutes. I don’t know how you can describe making golf a priority as anything less than choosing meaningless minutes over magical moments.
I still recall reading Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha when I had my programmed, corporate career disrupted by the Vietnam War. I remember that the main message of the book was that all you needed in life was the ability to wait, to think and to fast. Even then, I knew I wasn’t very good at waiting, my thinking was misdirected and underdeveloped, and I had no desire to go without food. It took me a long time to appreciate the benefits of waiting and thinking. I still have no intention of mastering the third.
Our current culture does not make it easy to practice these simple principles. We live in a world in which it is the norm to rush, to react, and to ravenously consume. In our attempts to make every second count, we often miss the magic that comes from slowing down, reflecting thoughtfully, and living simply.
If you would like a rich description of what magical moments might look like, I suggest reading Annie Dillard’s classic book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. In this beautiful telling of her adventures exploring Nature in the rural Southeast, she brings you into the moment of experiencing miracles as they unfold naturally in front of you. If only you can wait. The book invites you to experience a new way of seeing and thinking. She goes beyond the familiar by being more attuned to what we often miss. She shares the awe and wonder she experiences by what surrounds her moment to moment. Her vivid descriptions help you feel more awake and alive through her surprising observations.
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is set in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Roanoke, Virginia. The book is a series of reflections and internal monologues that take place over the course of a year. In each chapter, Dillard observes changing seasons, the flora and fauna, and both the beauty and brutality of the natural world. Her ability to let natural phenomena become the basis of philosophical and theological reflection makes the book particularly compelling and powerful.
2,500 years ago, Lao Tzu, my ultimate role model for reflection, asked:
“Do you have the patience to wait
Till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
Till the right action arises by itself?”
I’m hoping I can learn to be more patient and wait for magic to manifest in moments I might never expect. I’m hoping we will all spend more time enjoying magical moments instead of rushing through meaningless minutes. May it be so.
Also published on Medium.
Just finished Tinker Creek, and, as you know, I suffer the same “punctuality “ woes! Thank you my friend!❤️