Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts

Monday, January 01, 2007

New Year's Resolutions

NEW YEAR'S EVE. Happy New Year! Current temperature: 15°F.

For me, New Year's Eve is pretty much a non-event, designed solely for those who live (and love) to party. I rarely make it till midnight, but this year I watched the ball drop in Times Square at 10PM Mountain Time. I find this weird and disconcerting. My first New Year's Eve in a different time zone leaves me feeling nonplussed about the nature of time. So confused am I about friends back East welcoming 2007 while I'm still stuck in 2006, sleep eludes me. Midnight seems like a good time to write my first blog of the New Year, Murphy sleeping at my side.

I see no reason for all the hoopla around New Year's Eve. That said, I admit to feeling a strange and irresistible compulsion to make promises to myself for the coming year. I don't like calling them "resolutions," but prefer to think of this ritual as setting new goals and intentions for the coming months, based on what I've learned during the past year. The one lesson that keeps smacking me upside the head is "patience."

Normally I don't watch the news or read newspapers. It was Dr. Andrew Weil, the nutrition and lifestyle guru, who suggested the best way to relieve stress and improve the quality of one's life is to stop reading the news. This has always made a lot of sense to me, and I practice avoidance of the news regularly, though my critics may claim I've become apathetic. In truth, nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, I become so absorbed with news, it tends to overwhelm me. This is often counterproductive, and a significant energy drain as well. Current events also tend to distract me from things that are really important--like puppies, family, friends, and chocolate.

This evening, against my better judgment, I tuned my cable box to a local news show and learned that countless motorists are still stranded east of Albuquerque on I-40. A 25 mile stretch of interstate has been closed for two days. People have been stuck on the highway, in their cars, since Saturday, waiting for the icy road to reopen. I also learned that the City of Albuquerque's snow removal fleet totals 20 trucks, which explains why I have yet to actually see a plow on a city street. Many of the city's byways are still clogged with snow and slush--a semi-frozen concoction that solidifies overnight when temperatures dip nearly 20 degrees below freezing. The snow melted a bit today, only to refreeze after the sun disappeared at dinnertime. To make matters worse, freezing fog has been leaving an icy glaze on everything for the past two nights. To my astonishment, rime ice is forming in my own back yard.

Living in northern New England for a number of years prepared me for this weekend's snowstorm. I've survived blizzards far worse than this storm. Life in the mountains of New Hampshire did not, however, prepare me to witness (with grace) the folly of a city of half a million confronting a storm of this magnitude with woefully inadequate snow-removal equipment. A Southwest friend reminded me earlier this evening that I mustn't blame the City. No one in Albuquerque ever expected a storm like this, and the miniscule fleet of 20 trucks usually meets the City's occasional snow removal needs. Still, it's frustrating to watch nothing happen. The snow sits in place, as folks wait for it to melt. This will take some time with temperatures diving into the low teens at night and barely rising above freezing during the day. Even if it were warmer, the sheer volume of snow guarantees that our roads will be icy for days.

When we signed our lease last July, I made a point of asking our landlord, Bernard, if we'd be responsible for our own snow removal. He laughed and insisted that what little snow falls on Albuquerque is gone by 11 AM. Waiting for the snow to melt is a long-standing tradition and viable snow-removal method in Duke City. The sun, it seems, has always been better, quicker, and cheaper than shovels and plows.

One big plus: Since no one seems to be shoveling, there's no pressure for us to shovel either. This is a great relief and something worth celebrating. When I left snowy New Hampshire a little over three years ago, I vowed to never shovel snow again. And I meant it.

Our two AWD vehicles moved to New Mexico with us, thankfully. With all-wheel drive we easily negotiate 14 inches of neighborhood snow with nary a skid. Some of our neighbors are not as fortunate. The young man next door was stuck for over an hour trying to get out of his driveway in his new Toyota Tundra Off-Road pickup, which inexplicably does not have 4WD. Thanks to his endless wheel-spinning, our dirt road now bears deep wounds where tires churned up muddy clay beneath the snow.

I guess I need to be more patient in 2007. Living in New Mexico has tried my patience repeatedly during these past five months, and it continues. Things that used to take a New York minute are now taking hours, and in some cases days. Albuquerque time is very different from Boston time, and I'm not talking zones here. Albuquerque time makes laid-back Florida retirement time seem like the fast lane. Setting aside my judgments is a constant challenge, yet I know peace of mind ultimately rests in accepting things I can't change and taking risks to step outside my comfort zone. In the meantime, I'm cultivating a deeper appreciation for reading and developing new hobbies at home to thwart the onset of cabin fever. Murphy is delighted I've spent more time tossing a day-glo yellow frisbee to him in the snow. Slowing myself down is always a good thing--for me and for those around me.

May your New Year promises foster peace and personal growth. May we all find more meaning and joy in a world that sometimes appears baffling, frustrating, and challenging. And may we all remember when life gives you lemons, the best thing to do is make lemonade.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardships as the pathway to peace...
-Reinhold Niebuhr

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

It's About Time


TUESDAY. It's 27 degrees. The sun is shining like there's no tomorrow. Within a few hours the temperature will rise to the mid-sixties. This is the kind of day we'd celebrate in the northeast, the kind of day that ended a dreary five-day stretch of drizzle and overcast skies, the kind of day that made us happy to be alive. Here in Albuquerque these days are the norm. I still celebrate them, but far more often.

We were all so exhausted last night we hit the hay at 8:30. I probably would have snuck off to bed at 7:30, but it felt way too strange to retire so early in the evening. Besides, I had to wait for my dinner to digest.

As expected, everyone rose with the sun this morning. I still haven't turned all my clocks back, so I'm never sure what time it is. The three clocks in my office all display different times. One is set at Eastern Time (so I can keep up with my East Coast clients), one is set at Mountain Time, and the third one is still set at Mountain Daylight Time. As I type this, it's either 7:30, 8:30, or 9:30 AM, depending on the direction of my glance. Yes, it makes life interesting, but it's probably time to effect a uniform setting on my clocks. While I enjoy the challenge of deciding whether it's time for breakfast or lunch, I suspect living in parallel dimensions complicates my life needlessly. One time reality is enough.

Does knowing the exact time really matter? Probably not. If we follow the rhythms of the sun, as the birds and trees do, our lives would unfold quite naturally. Birds migrate precisely. In New Hampshire I anticipated the arrival of our spring songbirds to the day. I predicted the exact day our Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks and Hummingbirds would return from winter holiday. Come to think of it, birds are better at showing up on time than I am, and all without a timepiece. Go figure.

Time is a human concept, invented to mark the passage from birth to death. Defined as the Fourth Dimension, time also helps define the movement of three-dimensional objects in our solar system and beyond. Over the ages humans have spent an awful lot of time trying to explain time. My favorite words about time were spoken by Captain Jean-Luc Picard on Star Trek: The Next Generation: "Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we have lived."

The trees are also very clever about predicting when it's time to drop leaves and hunker down for winter. When days grow shorter, the leaves ignite with a blaze of color. I was told the other day by Sam that leaves don't fall. They're pushed. I think this secret should continue to be well-kept because we really don't want the seasons renamed Winter, Spring, Summer, and Push. Leaves do change color in the southwest, but I miss New England's fiery red maple leaves. Brilliant yellow and orange are quite beautiful, but red is clearly missing from the southwest's arboreal palette.

The other night I watched Chronos, a fascinating DVD by Ron Fricke, producer and director of Baraka, one of my all-time favorite movies. A 40-minute masterpiece created in 1985 and remastered in 2004, Chronos was filmed entirely in time-lapse photography. Like Baraka, Chronos is a non-verbal art film. As its title implies, it's about time. If you're interested in exploring this genre, check out the Spirit of Baraka website for information about more award-winning non-verbal films.

Happy Halloween! I've been waiting several weeks to place all our individually wrapped snack-size candy bars in a large basket by the front door. I pray for few trick or treaters and plentiful leftovers. May you all have plentiful leftovers on this holiday!

And don't forget to cherish the moment, even if it's raining and you're out of chocolate.


Turn Turn Turn (The Byrds)

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven
A time to build up,a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear its not too late