Weeks have whizzed by; flitting between cities, houses and faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, and finally things have begun to settle down, starting with my achieving the unachievable (finding a house in London). All in all it has been a blur of a couple of months and now that time of the year has come again; the time for gawking at the sight of the Christmas decorations and bright orange leaves that adorn the streets of London. The time when it dawns on you that winter is on the horizon and yet another year is, indeed, coming to an end.
The wise out there, who have hit riper ages beyond their late-twenties, will be able to recall that their early twenties were an awkward few years of self-realisation, frustration, and uncertainty. In fact, this may well still ring true now and continue to do so until much later on (dare I say it may never end)?
Well, the rut that I find myself in now is precisely that which I have taken the liberty to call:
"Being 22"
Not quite fully independent, financially or socially, being a 22 year old 4th year undergraduate has been characterised by face-offs with my laptop, night after night, looking for jobs for next year rather than writing my essay for next week. An overwhelming sensation of rootlessness and lack of definition in my daily activities has temporarily (one would hope) debilitated me from doing anything meaningful in the intervening minutes and hours that sneak in between lectures, trainings, meals and bedtimes.
I say this very much aware of the fact that this is a rather poor argument laden with faults: laziness, poorly constructed excuses, and too much time-wasting to mention a few. These little intersections - the awkward 37 minute gap between the moment you finish your lunch leading up to your next appointment or that 1 hour and 24 minute train journey to your next destination - are the little pockets of time which are so often undervalued when they are actually golden nuggets there for the taking. Too often do we let them slip through our fingers, when we should be scooping them up selfishly and pocketing them with care.
When tired and ready to switch off after a long day, evenings are habitually set aside for dinner, faffing around online, replying to emails, tidying up bits and bobs and various loose ends that are relatively unimportant but nevertheless need to be seen to. These are some of the faux-productive activities that lull us into a sensation of being organised and productive. Leisure reading is sent to the back of the queue following work and academic reading and a film is a guilty treats on a night off. Awkward gaps in the day are filled with more aimless scrolling and surfing - and so, rather than picking up my half-finished summer read, my days are marked with intermittent breaks browsing facebook and other relatively useless social media websites.
Well my friends, an inch an hour a foot a day.
These little nuggets of time add up and by the time you know it, your daily dose of dispersed 5 minute Facebook sessions amount to a considerable amount of lost time; irretrievable minutes which you would have been better off spending day dreaming or going for a walk in the park.
You're better off kicking back and relaxing, or pondering, or staring into space - because at least this way your mind is free to wander.
Stefan Sagmeister: The Power of Time Off
A couple of little things that I have introduced into my daily routine includes listening to podcasts.
It's a great awkward-time filler and, having selected informative ones, it jogs the mind a bit as well.
Freakonomics and Stuff You Should Know are particular favourites.
It's time to spend time more meaningfully.
Happy Tuesday!
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