In January, we came back from a wonderful holiday in South Africa and I found myself very aware of time. While we were away, time was fluid and generous. We spent whole days staring at the ocean and digging in the sand.  We ate when we were hungry and slept when we were sleepy. There was plenty of time to be together, watch the waves, fish in tidal pools, gather around the fire and braai some lamb chops or crayfish tails, or even just sandwiches. I don’t think I once said, “We don’t have time to make a fire tonight” or “It will be too rushed if we try going to the beach now”. We just flowed along with the days, waking to see the sky lighten and invite us down the beach for a morning walk or a scramble on the rocks, and finally growing dozy with the pinks, purples, and oranges of sunset, as we watched the sun sink into the sea. The day in between was free – we could simply sit, cook, start a fire, play in the tidal pools, dig in the sand, talk about our lives, read our books, doze off in the shade…

And of course, that was holiday, and daily life is a little different, but it struck me as we got home and the kids said, “It was nice when we were away. We didn’t have to worry about anything”. I was saddened that these lovely little boys feel that their regular daily lives are too rushed and too stressful. This should not be the case for a long time to come. I want them to have that sense that time is fluid and generous, there is plenty of time to live, play, and be. I don’t want them to worry about all the things they have to do, complete, achieve. And we generally take a pretty low key approach, or so I thought. The boys don’t have many after school activities. They do have to go to school every day, a fact they like to complain about bitterly, telling me how they would much rather stay home and have time for their projects. They are creative souls who love to draw, paint, invent, design, experiment, tell stories… And it is clear they do no feel as though time is on their side. They come home from school tired, and pretty soon it is time for dinner, bath, and bed. And the day is done. We are not rushing to sport or clubs or events, but even so, there is precious little time to be kids, to play, to create, to have a sense of time’s generosity.

I have been wondering if I am creating this sense that time is precious and limited. Because of my own stress and long to-do list, have I made them feel that there is never enough time to just be? How do I undo this? How do I free them? How do I return the freedom of childhood to them? We watched the movie of “The Little Prince” while we were away. It is a beautifully made movie based on the timeless tale by Saint Exupery. A little girl lives in a world of charts and to-do lists; a world without color or joy. Bt meeting the aviator and hearing his story about the little prince, she rediscovers childhood and color and play and joy. And she learns that human connections are what matter most, and the heart is what guides us to “see rightly”. It is a very moving story and stays with me because I see our lives in the grey, structured, joyless life that the little girl leads. Of course, the movie shows extremes to make its point, but it frightened me to think that we may be sucking the childhood and the color out of life by worrying about time “running out”.

When I was a child of about 10 or 11, I had a teacher who constantly talked about “getting ahead”. I never understood what we trying to get ahead of, and why. It seemed to just cause stress and put pressure on everyone, but the reason for doing this was never clear to me. Looking back, she was living that life of charts and achievements which left little room for children to be children. She was focused on exam results which would lead to more exam results which would lead to better colleges and “brighter futures”. But would any of the children enjoy learning? Would they be happy adults? Would they add color and joy to the world? Would they even care about the planet or other people?

I am reminded of another book I read as a child, “Momo” by Michael Ende. It has been a long time since I read the book, but I remember the horror of the time thieves who stole time and made people feel more and more stressed and rushed. It feels like life has continuously sped up over the last 50 years, so that we are attempting to do more and more, always be connected (to our devices, but not necessarily each other), meet deadlines, make profit… We have lost the ability to just sit, to enjoy simple pleasures like a home-cooked meal, a walk in nature, a conversation with a friend; or even just a little flower on the side of the road. Has all this “progress” really helped us? Our planet is sick, animal species are rapidly going extinct, people are obese or suffering from high blood pressure, there is never enough time! And instead of healing ourselves with food and exercise and human connection, we attempt to take a quick fix of pills or such, and keep going at the same breakneck pace. So even as we are allegedly more efficient, and have more technology to help us, we live emptier lives. We are lonely, isolated, anxious, disconnected, never allowed to stop…

Until now. We have been forced to stop. To stay home, cancel all activities, and just be. We have no choice but to learn how to get along with ourselves, without all the distractions we are used to. We are required to cook and teach and learn and live, every day. We are confronted with the challenge of creating our own structure, finding new comforts, just making it through each day. Of course, it is not easy – we are breaking every pattern, disrupting every routine, forbidden every comforting ritual. We can’t drive in to work, eat out, meet friends at the pub, play tennis, climb a play structure, send kids to school!!

But in spite of that, it almost seems as if this novel coronavirus brings us a gift. We are free from the obligations that had us rushing from place to place, day in and day out. We finally have time to let kids be kids – to play, create, make messes. We finally have no choice but to stay home and get to know ourselves. You may choose to clean the house from top to bottom and sort all the junk drawers. You may choose to be super homeschool mom and give your kids a better education than they would ever get elsewhere. You may try to juggle your work from home with their school from home and the endless need for snacks and those aggressive attention-seeking dust bunnies. You may decide to learn the violin, or study French, or write your first novel. You may be overwhelmed with anxiety and barely making it through the day sometimes.  You may be facing a storm the likes of which you’ve never known. We will all experience this differently, and deal with it differently, and that is OK. There is no rulebook, there is no HAVE TO, there is no ‘proper’ way to live this strangeness.

My wish for all of us, amidst the battering waves and uncertainty, is that we can take time to enjoy life, smell the roses, taste the honey, marvel at the colors of the world. Without worrying about what we have accomplished or whether it is enough. 

And maybe, if we can be patient, we will begin to heal from the manic pace and relentless pressure on ourselves, our families, and our planet.