The Art of Noticing

Darin Jawahar

on The Plastic Mind

What is life without time? Why do I feel like im constantly running out of it?

Tomorrow is my 22nd Birthday. My sister’s wedding is in 12 days. I graduate in less than 2 months. I will also officially be an uncle in 5 months, as my sister is due in September.

Things keep happening rapidly, and it’s hard to make sense out of anything. There are such exciting events coming up, but also things that feels uncertain. And currently, it feels as though I have no conception of time. I feel busy. Constantly making plans with friends whom I’m not sure I’ll see for a while (daunting concept), applying to jobs and grad schools (even more daunting), prepping speeches and dances for my sister’s wedding (taskly), and staying on top of the most important: schoolwork (who am I kidding, I’m a senior).

Not having a clear vision of what my postgraduate life might look like, life just feels uncertain at this time. And on my birthday, I typically have this yearly existential crisis—I’m anticipating a loud inner dialogue this year.

Is my time in LA complete? Do I have an extra semester to figure it out? I feel that my body is concerned with the amount of time I have.

But what is time to me? Is it just an inevitable construct that I have to deal with? Is it just something that is purely metaphysical?

A lot of me argues that time is more than that—something cultural. I’ve learned that in America, our time is expensive. It is profit-oriented, and most of the time, scarce. No American can survive, nor bear, being idle, because its simply not an option for any of us. After giving birth, my sister has around 6 weeks off until continuing her residency to become a doctor. PTO is scarce, not having a plan post grad is looked down upon, money is pretty much everything.

For those of us who have lived in the west for most of our lives, this is just how things roll. We are accustomed and socialized to consider our time use as something hierarchical. We have priorities. Whatever provides us the most income is at the top of the pyramid of needs. Providing for ourselves and our families comes second. “Free time” is a myth, and depending on the stage of your life you are in, can cost you a loss of provision to your higher-order needs.

But I see this as something cultural because, in other places, I don’t believe time is spent as structurally as we are used to. Though I might sound like a broken record, after having the opportunity to visit countries with diversifying operative societies, traveling seems to have broken the illusion that the way we live our lives in the west is the only possible way.

There are so many factors that create a functioning society, so it is hard to say that elsewhere is arguably better than what we are used to. That could be a subjective take. But when it comes to my own life, maybe time isn’t something I’m losing. It might just be something I’ve learned to experience in a troubling way. And if that’s true—if my brain is capable of learning this way—then it can also unlearn it, or even reshape it into a new way of experiencing time.

This is what allows the plastic mind to transfer from being overwhelming to freeing.

I don’t know exactly what my life will look like after graduation, or if my time in LA is ending. But maybe I don’t need to experience that uncertainty as pressure. Maybe that’s just how I’ve been trained to feel it. Maybe 22 can still be a formative year for me similar to the previous ones. Maybe I never have to use time as a means to prove myself, but as a means to grow.

I look forward to being an uncle, and hopefully showing my niece that time doesn’t always have to feel like something chasing you. Or something you necessarily have to chase. That maybe, if she practices awareness enough, it can even feel like it belongs to her.