People Who Rush

When you don't have time to slow down, you don't have time *not* to

I’ve recently explored how expectations and memories get in the way of fun. This week I want to talk about how perceived time scarcity prevents us from being open to the possibility of fun.

Have you heard of those couples who go to the airport at different times because they disagree about how early to get there?

Well, (so far) my partner and I have always gone to the airport together, but once I made it all the way to Aruba, and he didn’t.

You see, he is the type of person who flat out refuses to rush.

He won’t speed up his pace to catch a green light. He won’t choose to make a certain meal because it will be quicker. Like, ever.

If I ask him how long something will take, his answer will just be “as long as it takes.”

If I were to argue that we don’t have enough time to not rush, he would argue that this means we don’t have enough time to rush.

It used to drive me nuts. Obviously my relationship with time was better. I could do more in a day! Punctuality matters!* (Don’t get us started on who was right/wrong when I cancelled our second date because I was already at the agreed upon location (Maker Faire! So fun!) and he was on track to be 45 minutes late.)

But, when you spend enough time with someone (hello pandemic in a studio apartment!), you begin to see that other ways of navigating the world may have some merit.

First and foremost, he makes amazing meals for us. His secret ingredient: time.

He is the most present partner and dad I can imagine. He doesn’t multitask. Why multitask when there is time for everything?

And have I mentioned he is always having fun? That comes with an infant who doesn’t sleep well.

Meanwhile, I have been in a kind of negative cycle these days where I get down on myself for not enjoying things that I used to enjoy (chiefly, anything that starts after 8pm, but also documentaries, long bike rides and walks, reading, the list goes on).

Last week, in an attempt to try to get my 50+ open browser tabs in my phone browser under control, I was speed reading and feeling good about getting down to 40 tabs , then 35, then 30…

Then I came across this article, about an Amazonian river boat in Paraguay. A perfect candidate for a speed read. But something, thankfully, made me slow down. The slower I read, the more I could imagine life with this 44 year old boat as the only mode of transportation.

Let me tell you, it was such a pleasurable read. It was the first time an article made me feel that way in over a year (which may or may not have to do with my baby being a year old).

The stories and images of life onboard brought me back to a two day boat journey I took from Egypt to Sudan, in 2012 while on the Tour d’Afrique.

One of the most physically strenuous things I’ve *ever* done is get myself and my belongings on this boat.

People claimed whatever space they could to sleep.

I had to just walk over people like this to get to the bathroom. And trust me, you do not want to see pictures of this bathroom.

I woke up to find this man sleeping next to me, with his feet in my face and his head on my friend’s blanket.

Arriving in Sudan, photos were forbidden, but I managed to sneak this one of cargo being unloaded while a friend had his camera confiscated!

And then I realized something.

I don’t enjoy things I used to enjoy because I am rushing through them. I am rushing through them because I feel like I have to, just to stay afloat.

Do you even remember life before multiple social media accounts and inboxes and Slack workspaces (not to mention Circle & Discord communities), and a million open browser tabs?

You have to** get good at being quick in this day and age. Most jobs demand it. But I have come to believe that the better you get at adapting to this new world, the worse you get at the art of having fun.

I rush because somehow I have internalized that rushing will allow me to experience more pleasure. But it has the opposite effect. When I rush, when my mind is already on the next thing I want to do, it’s hard to take pleasure or interest in even the most interesting and pleasurable activities.

And what’s high on the list of signs and symptoms of depression? Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities.

I could see myself as depressed, or as someone who needs to slow the f*** down.

I nearly forgot there was another way. It’s the way that the happiest people I know, including my partner, take: the scenic route.

I was happy on that scenic boat ride in Sudan. I was the type of happy that believed it would be ok if I died because I was really living. It was a ridiculously long and uncomfortable journey, and it was damn fun.

I am sure if I was in a rush to get to off, or attempting to maximize the free time to finish a book or power through a million open browser tabs, the experience wouldn’t live in my memory the way it does now. Thankfully, I had nothing else to do but settle in for the ride.

*My partner doesn’t value punctuality, but he knows that I do, so thankfully, after redeeming himself with a punctual second date, he has continued to be reliably on time for me

**Though my partner would say he doesn’t *have to* do anything, “except be black and die”.