Experiencing Real Time
Experiencing Real Time
by Penny Irvin | Bainbridge Island, WA
As a teacher, sticking to tight schedules has always been part of the job. A typical work day, shared on a Google calendar, is divided into color-coded blocks representing meetings, classes, breaks, and even short work calls. I’ve accounted for every minute of the day. I have always longed to heed Mary Oliver’s plea to “Linger, for just a little while, out of your busy and very important day…” to notice what was going on around me with presence and curiosity, outside the confines of time. On the Camino, I took that privilege.
The daily rhythm of the pilgrim’s life, simple: each day unfolded without being dictated by time displayed on a watch or phone. My natural rhythms of sleeping, walking, and eating wove themselves into the tapestry of the here and now: a noise or light that woke me in the morning, a café or donativo stand on the trail offering food, an opportunity for a short rest, dinner smells wafting in from the kitchen of the albergues signaling an approaching meal, and the exhaustion at the end of the day settling upon me to invite sleep. The abstract numbers on the clock were no longer relevant. The color-coded calendar of my work life faded to the expansive colors of gradual sunrises, brightening horizons, and fading light at day’s end. Hours on the trail slipped by unnoticed, my attention focused on the sound of each step in contact with the crisping orange leaves underfoot, the bursting bunches of fat purple grapes hanging on their vines in arms reach, or the sound of unfamiliar bird calls overhead. I became firmly rooted in the present moment, my natural rhythms, and the wonder of my surroundings.
Returning to my life “back on the clock,” has been an adjustment requiring me to prioritize: listening to my inner rhythms, designating time outside of work hours to be free from constraints, and treating time more as a guideline than a rule. I try to stay present now. I walk every day as part of my routine of self care, even in the rain. And now when I look at my watch, I see a picture of me and my shadow on the trail, walking, with all the time in the world.
