There is enough time
Who said we didn’t have enough time? Where were we taught to bow to the god of time scarcity?
How have we been fed a diet of tick-tock, not enough hours in the day, work work work until joy is squeezed out?
What mythology says the hero or heroine is the one who works brutal hours?
Whatever has possessed us to work until we are desiccated husks of humans, our children raised without us, time with the sacred left to our later years that we may never arrive to?
Are we trapped in the need to work harder, sleep less, through the demands of a system that seduces us with purchase, consume, bigger, faster, more luxurious?
Or has even the middle-class life been so hollowed out that cramming our 24 hours is the only way to tread water?
At what point to we deeply question this ridiculous myth and ask ourselves the deepest questions.
What do we value the most?
Do we build a life around those values today, or do we hope for some far-off future to give us the time?
How do we architect a system that supports humans to thrive with enough time to play, move, dance, paint, climb, surf, share a table with family and friends?
Photo taken March 8th 2022
