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How do you deal with the inexorable march of time?
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I honestly stopped caring about time as we use it (I'd need to think for a minute if someone asked me what day it is) since the Pandemic. Never had much use for time other than scheduling, but the Pandemic seems to have completely cut me off from it.
Now, I just exist. Que sera, sera.
Im Glad im not the only one that fell into the void outside of time.
Life really does feel a lot different once you stop counting minutes. I'm honestly very grateful for this paradigm shift!
That's fantastic for you but most of us don't have the privilege.
Granted, not something which works for everyone. But I don't think such a shift in mentality is a privilege necessarily.
I mean, the whole point of my perspective now is that it really doesn't matter what day, or month, or year it is, all that matters is what happens. Why count the time which passes and try to guess the time that's left, when in spite of having the perfect organism in terms of physiological functions and immunity, one could still get smeared by a bus like paint on a canvas tomorrow.
I will concede that the fact that I do not fear death whatsoever also helps immensely. Literally no pressure, just flinging my best guess at it and dealing with whatever happens as a result.
Oh I get it, I'm also a hedonistic nihilist. I used to live the way you described, in a squat. I'm happier now in the house I rent with my wife and our cats. We have running water and the electricity doesn't come from an extension cord to the neighbor's!
But it came at the huge price of working and traveling for work all the fucking time. I'm still right there with you though. I don't care if I'm struck down minutes after posting this. Hope it's quick.
First off, I am genuinely happy to hear that you've managed to find some stability and that you have loving souls around you! I wish you and everyone you love nothing but the best! ๐ค
Second, as related to my hedonistic nihilism... well... not quite:))
I have started to accept a bit of hedonism in my life for mental health reasons in the past years (I've been raised as a tool, not as a human being), but I'm not nihilistic. I don't stress out about how long I have and the magnitude of my actions anymore, sure, but I am passionate about what there is. I love life (maybe even too much at times), I love my passions and interests, I love the wonders of existence, and I believe it's ultimately awesome that we're here to see the unfolding of the Universe. I also hate how bad we've made things for ourselves and the amount of injustice and inequality makes me sadder and angrier than I've ever been. And I will keep trying until I die to contribute whatever I can to shifting humanity ~~back~~ on a reasonable and empathetic trajectory.
I've been doing the 9-to-5 ever since I got out of Uni and managed to build a liveable career out of failing upward (I take full advantage of my intuition). I managed to squeeze into the housing market before prices started exploding here as well and own my own hole in the ground (we're about 20 years behind America in terms of socio-economic trajectory, but we're starting to speedrun the degradation, it seems), haven't taken a proper vacation since 2011 (more than a week and actually going somewhere other than my living room), etc., etc.
I used to worry about everything, I used to carry the pressure of being a good little worker ant, of being the best specimen possible, keeping my mouth shut and working my ass off. And all I got for it is high blood pressure, profound loneliness, Meniere's disease and teeth which I've chewed half to shit, and I'm barely in my mid 30s. Had my first (and only, so far) heart attack at 26.
The lockdowns gave me the context I needed to snap out of it. Had the privilege of working from home (QA guy) and spent the entire lockdown pretty much alone in my apartment. And I kept thinking about things, and realised the pain I caused myself for basically no damned reason, just because we're forced to play this stupid little game of Capitalism since the moment we're squeezed out into the world. I actually sort of died back then. At least a part of me did, the part which held any and all concern for trying to fit into the system. Then I could finally see my core values again, the things which were important to me. And keeping track of time really wasn't on that list, to the point where I stopped celebrating or even caring about my birthday, or New Year's.
Now I just try to live by my principles. I'll give it my best shot at being myself and following my values, but I won't have a psychotic break at the end if I don't manage to be the uber-me, nor do I care that life will kill me sooner or later. Nearly did that myself through trying to live it by the terms set by society. It's impossible to unsee the Absurd once it smacks you in the face.
Edit: some corrections.