It's late Friday night last week and the door gently opens to self-compassion: what if you skipped this week of publishing, wrote your note this weekend, and scheduled it to send out next Friday?
My Thursday and Friday of last week flowed differently than I thought they would. I didn't have the space or time to write this weekly note to you.
I was annoyed with myself for not finishing on time. I was trying to maneuver my Saturday morning tasks in a way that I could send the note out to you before it became too late on Saturday.
"Too late...." on Friday, too late again on Saturday... I was feeling behind and far away from "on time" – and it was of my own making.
When that door softly opened to self-witnessing and then self-compassion, I was able to press pause on the self-induced out-of-breath treadmill of doom and despair.
Pressing pause gave me the chance to see how this self-induced (and capitalism-supported) feeling of eternal behind-ness has given way to:
- me treating relationships as transactional and urgent
I must send this note out on Friday – at the latest on Saturday morning – and not skip a week (if it's not for a really good reason that's out of my control). I must do this because this is what I agreed to originally and the people reading this note expect it from me. Even if they don't notice, it's what I agreed to and I need to hold up my end of the transactional deal.
- my relationship with time being eternally strained, stressed, and muddled
I'm late (again). I'm behind (again). I should stay up late to finish this time-sensitive task. I should wake up early to finish it. I should stare at my computer forcing myself to do it.
- and my self-talk spirals down the drain
I can't even follow through with this one thing I've told myself I'll do. If I can't even do this one thing, how can I even imagine doing anything grander in my life?
Oh gosh. Tears now well up in my eyes. This rigid, harsh, life-denying self-talk is outright mean.
I don't know about you but I'm going to stand up for a moment to shake this out and off this body and give it all some juice so it can flow around....
That's some good blood flow.
I do love sharing about my internal process and I love sharing supportive words that connect with you (though maybe that mean self-talk did too? ugh, please give your body and being some love if it did).
So, here we go with some supportive questions:
What if your way of relating with time is uniquely beautiful and beautifully unique?
What if my way is too?
What if the tasks that don't get done "on time" are actually intentionally wanting to get done at a different time? or in a different way? or by a different being?
What if your feelings of being too early or too late are both simply fog keeping you disconnected from life itself?
What if your experiences of being rushed or being slowed down are simply times in which your rhythm is dissonant with someone else's?
What if time conflicts (whether that's arguing with someone about timing or a schedule conflict, take "conflict" however you wish), are simply the universe – or, said in another way, the ties that bind us all together – sending us a message of "not yet," "not in this way," or "hold on, just wait"?
What if your timing is an integral part of who you are?
What if my timing is an integral part of who I am?
What if the timing of our relationship is an integral part of who our relationship is?
What if things not going according to plan are simply openings of other doorways that you didn't see were there because you were so focused on the clock ticking and how the door you wanted to go through was locked and you forgot the key somewhere and you don't know where it is and you don't know why you're late for the meeting (again)?
What if ...?
What if time felt like you were a bird soaring instead of a clenched jaw and hunched, cock-eyed neck-shoulder-upper-back meat sack?
What if time felt like the moon and sun embracing you in their reliable dances?
What if time felt like a loving guide through new terrain?
What if time felt like purpose and meaning and courage and sadness and joy all wrapped up into the tastiest burrito?
What if time was yours to behold and embrace and really get to know moment to moment?
What if your time was yours to get up close and personal with?
What if waking up was yours? What if going to sleep was yours? What if the time you give to this task is yours? What if the time you give to your kids is yours? What if the time you give to your parents is yours? What if the time you give to the friend, the in-laws, the ex, the client, the neighbor, the boss, the dog, the cat...?
What if this time is yours and is simultaneously theirs because time isn't owned – time isn't found in your wallet – what if time is a collaborative, cooperative, co-creative experience that you and I and we get to be with each and every breath?
What if time was yours to be in relationship with? And what if that relationship was transformational rather than transactional? A doorway rather than a box to check off?
What if ...?
What if this note arrived in your inbox right on time? Even though its writer thinks it's a week late?
Are more "what ifs" coming to you?
I'd love to receive them if you want to share. I'd love for you to share your what ifs with people who you are in time relationship with.
As always, I love to learn about what resonates with you from these notes.
Til next time, 🤭
P.S. Be With Cassandra's latest podcast episode is live!
It's called Being with Nudges. Take a listen or a read when you feel called:
Subscribe so you can be the first to know when the next one comes out! I'm going for a two-week-ish publishing cadence. Though... you know... what is time?