The Value of Time

My mom sent me an email today, one sent to her by my dear friend and former Professor Bill Hiss. The body of the email contained an excerpt of the inaugural address from Bates' current President Elaine Tuttle Hansen. The subject was time. More importantly, it highlighted the fact that education--like so many things in this modern age--moves so quickly, without thinking about what is being missed as we whiz by. I was intrigued, because higher education seems to be all about how much we can cram into four years: distribution requirements, thesis, extracurricular activities and the like. It's all about quantity at times, rather than quality. Don't get me wrong, college is a time when you want to experience as much as you possibly can. At no other time will you be so free yet so involved; so learned yet so ignorant. The point is that we need to take it all in, but we also need to take the time to process what it is that we've experienced and more importantly take time to do absolutely nothing.

I read the excerpt of the speech and then moved down the thread to find the current edition of the Awanadjo Almanack, the publication put out by my Uncle Rob. Uncle Rob is a sage, to say the least. It was clear from the progression of the email, that my professor had sent this excerpt to my Uncle in response to a piece he wrote on the subject of time. In words that struck me as so simple, yet so profound and meaningful, Rob says this:

Therapists and clergy are busy treating stress-related diseases of the mind and soul. To relax, we rush off to the airport to fly at 400 miles per hour to hectic vacation spots, and then we rush back exhausted. We have no time for timelessness.

Meanwhile, the seasons still change at the same slow pace they have always kept. The sun still rises and sets no faster than ever. The planets ponderously move as they always did. And the length of our lives is still three-score and ten or four-score years as it was when the Psalms were set down three thousand years ago. So what’s the big hurry?

That’s why it’s so blissful to lose all track of time in simply daydreaming or reading or just sitting by the stove thinking on a blustery night. No stress, no pressure, no hurry. I like to take my own sweet time, and won’t easily let someone else take it from me. (Rob McCall, Awanadjo Almanack, Full Snow Moon, 26 Feb.-5 Mar. 2010).

What indeed is the big hurry? That's what I've been struggling with as of late. My life at Bates moves at a breakneck pace. It's up at 8:30 (yes, that's early for college kids), off to breakfast for 20 minutes, classes all day with reading time in the library crammed in. Then it's dinner, library for the rest of the night, maybe a solitary half hour then bed. Oh, and maybe some gym time or time with friends mixed in. One can see easily how that constant pace can be exhausting.

So when one gets the opportunity to take a semester abroad it seems as if the options are boundless. You can travel, you can sightsee, you can go out and party. I plan to do--and have done--all of these things. Yet on a day like this where I have one class and some reading to do, but plan to just sit and relax afterwards, I constantly struggle with a sense that I'm not doing enough. I see people travelling every weekend, going out every night, and having a great time while doing it. I wonder whether they found the right balance and I've come up short. Yet reading words like my Uncle Rob's seem to set me straight. This experience is something different to every person. It need not fit a cookie-cutter mold. You don't have to travel and party every waking minute in order to say that your time away was well spent.

As far as I'm concerned this is a sabbatical. The frantic pace of Bates will consume me in due course and while I hope to temper its speed and intensity a bit, there are some things which will have to remain stressful and time consuming. But as for now, I have the chance to just live. In the two short months that I've already spent in Scotland I have learned so many lessons--not only about Social Policy, but about me. I've learned to cook. I've learned to shop. I've learned to survive in an unfamiliar city. But I've also learned what makes me satisfied. I feel that if sitting with my flatmates and watching The Sopranos or Scrubs most nights did not make me happy then I would have changed my tune and done something different. But this isn't the case. While I plan to go out and explore--more than I already have--I also plan to take time for me. Study abroad for me is not just about a change of scenery, it's about a change of pace. I get to go slower. I get to take time for impromptu emails and instant messages in the middle of readings. I get time to write this blog. But I also get time to really interact with people. To forge friendships and to really experience what life is all about.

Yes, my lack of travel so far is in part due to lack of funds, or at least a desire to not go completely broke. But I'm also beginning to become very content with the path that I'm taking. I'm getting to take a step back from the rat race, to really pause and consider what means the most to me. It definitely wasn't the experience that I was expecting when I first set out for Scotland, but I'm a fervent believer that life gives you wonderful surprises along the way, especially when you think you want the opposite. I may not want to live life as slowly and methodically as Uncle Rob, but it is an important reminder that when you move too quickly; when you want to cram your time with every possible detail, you lose perspective of all the small things that make life worth living, and in my case what makes my experience in Edinburgh so fulfilling.