Time loops around in recurring seasons, again Lent, again Advent, again, again, again. Even so, each rotation gets us closer to maturity. Each step marches us towards eschaton and the grave. I love how James Gurney's Dinotopia unified the cyclical and linear natures of time into Spiral Time. The Spiral Clock he illustrated with it hardly made for practical time-keeping though.
I'm thinking about time because I'm back to thknking about planning it. Health, Relationships, Career, Creative Outlets, and Learning: that's the five fields I'm supposed to budget my time for as ruled by the Skype Synod of October 2019. Of course, as all my meticulous schedules have eventually broken down, this next one inevitably will. No question, I will cycle back. The goal though is to cycle upwards in a spiral instead of circling back exactly where I started.
What haven't I tried though? Surely, intentionally introducing new elements into the cycle may disrupt it? What though? Hmmm.
Computers off by midnight followed by one or two quiet hours of reading and writing. No Youtube, even if the wifi is on. Maybe a bit of Skype if there is work to discuss. As much as possible though, no digital work or entertainment after midnight.
It makes sense, I think, making this adjustment. Much procrastination is built up on the idea that there will always be more time. After all, what stretch of time feels more expendable than the wee, free hours when everyone is asleep and quiet and out of my psychic hair? That last bit is certainly anxiety-related.
Maybe though - and I think it's worth testing - I shouldn't fill up the most peaceable hours of my day with work stress and passive entertainment. Maybe I'd be less anxious if I gave myself some quiet time? Probably worth trying.
All my best,
Martholemy.
P.S.
The spiral ramp that climbs up to the "start" of the Vatican Museums makes for a perfect vision of Dante's Purgatorio. The Inferno had been the queue outside.