Monday, February 28, 2011

When time disappears

When I left New Hampshire, one of my students gave me a small clock, the case made of wood, resembling the shape of the state, the clock itself no larger than a watch. It stands on the windowsill by my desk, and has become the time keeper of my work. I like it, because it is silent and small, not overly intrusive, but present for a quick glance when I teach or practice. I’m always concerned whether there is enough time left to do everything that needs to be done.

The other day I came home and found that the clock had stopped, probably in need of a new battery.
There was no need to do anything about it during the vacation week. I got used to it and I almost liked it better that way:
  • allowing time to stretch out without keeping track
  • allowing myself to get absorbed in a task and keep going until I feel that I’m done for now
  • allowing a task to develop at its own pace and in its own time
In fact, it’s one of the greatest luxuries I can imagine. Tomorrow, I start teaching again. I wasn’t too disappointed when I found the store already closed where I wanted to get the battery changed today. It will make it easier to preserve some of that feeling of letting time pass without measuring it.  


  1. Hey Birgit,

    When you get to be my age, time passes without even thinking about it!!

    Bob Smith