WAIT, WHAT DAY IS IT? – THE JOY OF TEMPORAL DISTORTION

Life Below Zero is a documentary television series that profiles rugged individuals who lead extraordinary lives in remote locations above the arctic circle. One of these individuals is Glenn Villaneuve who lives alone in Chandalar, Alaska some 200 miles from Fairbanks. In one episode an interviewer remarked that he noticed that Glenn did not have any clocks, watches or other timekeeping apparatus. Glenn confirmed that this was, indeed, the case. The interviewer inquired as to how he is able to keep track of time. His response? “I know what time it is by watching the changing of the seasons.”

I was totally blown away by that and, frankly, found it fiercely inspiring. The reality being that Glenn has made time his bi… Well, let’s just say he has managed a particular mastery over time. He had carved out an existence in which time does not dominate and control his life; dictate and propel his daily actions and behaviors. In fact, it is the antithesis of the life I had been leading since I was about 4. It was something I was determined to strive toward.

Like many of us, I had spent nearly every day of my life bound by time. From the moment I began preschool to the day I retired, virtually every aspect of my life had been scheduled. Whether it was larger swaths of time throughout the day during school (wake, eat, classes, study/homework, eat, sleep) or the insanely perverse scheduling and leading of my life in 30 minute, pre-calendared increments as a Fortune 500 executive, I was, in some meaningful way, fettered to a date and an ever ticking clock. Unlike, Glenn, time had made me her bi… Well, let’s just say time had a particular mastery over me.

KILLING TIME

To be honest, once I stopped working for good, it was, initially, more than a bit odd to go from my then “time-bound hyperdriven” life to one that was completely devoid of any demands. From working 60+ hours per week while physically crossing 4 time zones to nothing. From having every scintilla of my life plotted on a calendar to not even having to look at one at all.

The odd aspect was, how liberating and exhilarating it actually felt. Now, everyday was Saturday. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Time was no longer my master. To celebrate, I went even further and removed the clock from the bedroom and stopped carrying my phone around with me, and, even when I did, I certainly never bothered to look at the calendar. I had taken my first step toward getting a bit closer to Glenn’s approach to time.

Being completely untethered from time-bound obligations and an over-structured life, is, assuredly, not for everyone. As most anyone reading this is aware, there are innumerable articles, data and case studies that conclusively prove that, in the absence of structure during retirement, many folks simply fall victim to their own sloth or inertia or get “bored” and then return to their previous work environment. I, too, have written about this phenomenon, stating that your habits, actions and motivating needs not only do not change in retirement, but are, in fact, amplified in either positive or negative reinforcing feedback loops.

I happen to be a “Doer” in that I always have to be doing something. I’m atrocious at relaxing, or being physically or mentally idle and exceptionally poor at being able to do absolutely nothing, so there really was no legitimate danger of falling unwittingly into the above trap. What was even more joyous is that I could now plan for and do everything on my own schedule. And this became the inflection point at which time, for me, began to get charmingly distorted.

WAIT, WHAT DAY IS IT?

To be fair, there were, obviously, things that still needed to get done, however, the number of those things had dropped precipitously. I transitioned from calendaring events at multiple points during a single day to simply having a list of things that I would get done at some undetermined point within the week, or even the month. This began to interject a feeling of temporal elasticity into my life which was further propelled by the absence of “day anchors” ala Monday is get on the plane and travel day.

Admittedly, it did not occur immediately, but somewhere during the 6-month mark of retirement, I began to wake in the morning legitimately having no idea what day it actually was. It was bliss and I mentally celebrated accordingly. I was yet another step closer to where Glenn is. I had now begun to put a leash on time, rather than the other way around.

A related aside which is interestingly germane to this, is all of the articles that have recently sprung forth in light of people now working from home during the pandemic. I’ve read a number of them detailing how this distorted sense of time resulting from a deviation from routine is perceived as uncomfortable, disconcerting and, in rare cases, psychologically harmful. Part of me can certainly empathize, particularly for those who need structure. Add economic uncertainty to the cocktail and it can get sketchy quickly. However, as many FI writers have pointed out, this is about as good of a “test flight” as you’re going to get at early retirement. So, if you’re finding things a trifle challenging, it’s a signal you still have work to do on your “FIRE psychological plan.”

Anywho, from that 6-month mark forward, the “Wait, what day is it?” moments continued to grow slowly, but incrementally as I waded further into my retirement. However, once I abandoned So. Cal. and moved to the rural, unpopulated countryside of Washington, this temporal distortion kicked itself into some kind of freak-ass maximum overdrive.

TIME GROWS ON TREES

Once I arrived in the rustic hamlet of Neverwhere, far flung from the big city and 25 miles to the nearest town, time really began to twist and distort in an exquisitely delightful way. The most notable element of this was the seemingly slowing of the actual passage of time. It was quite a strange feeling, but it was a cue that I had taken another step forward in my desire to have more mastery of time.

While I no longer have access to some of the best university science libraries since having moved, I was still able to do a bit of research in an attempt to discover if this wonderful temporal distortion had actually been studied in any meaningful way. I, ultimately, happened upon a study by scientists at Carleton University in Canada where they tested whether people perceived time moving more slowly in nature compared to urban settings. Corroborating my personal experience, they found that people do, in fact, perceive time to move at a slower pace than in the city. Furthermore, all subjects felt more relaxed. Nice to know, but not surprising, that sans the thrum, grind and time-bound events (rush hour traffic, church bells, etc.) and other bellwethers in the Big Smoke, it’s easy to just get lost in time here in the country.

WATCHING THE CLOUDS GO BY EVERY DAY

To further intensify this beauteous distortion of time, I’ve intentionally reverted to my complete eschewing of all news and social media (excepting Twitter for Fates on Fire). I have leveraged the lessons from my Total Blackout Project to create a temporal distortion that allows me to truly experience my environment and my life a in an extremely new and powerful way.

I have never spent so much time watching the clouds go by and the constant, albeit, small changes that occur on a weekly basis. I am now able to actually observe the passage of time by the colors of the flora around me; near imperceptible shifts in time that signal seasonal change.

And while I don’t believe I’ll ever get to a place where observing the changing of the seasons is the exclusive method in which I gauge time, I am quite content with, and extremely grateful for, the fact that I’m perpetually slippery with the exact date and awake more than a few days each week not entirely sure what day it is. I’ve also learned now that it’s not necessarily about mastering time per se, but more about engaging in a glorious, transcendent relationship with her. One in which I can thoroughly enjoy and appreciate all she has to offer; to truly delight in her splendor while understanding that, one day, she will vanish forever.

HOW ABOUT YOU?

Have you retired and experienced a form of temporal distortion? Are you working from home as a result of COVID and noticed anything different about your perception of time? Do you like or dislike the experience and why or why not? I’d enjoy hearing from you.