Time is not nearly as important as we think it is. Still we keep checking it, as if the course of the next few moments is crucially dependent on it. The more we check it, the more it interrupts our sense of grace. Each glance at the watch takes us away from the beautiful, endless continuum that is reality.
Although, I suppose time is kind of handy. We probably wouldn’t have birthdays without it, which logically means cake wouldn’t have been invented. Plus it would be pretty hard to make cake without timers. I am now confused. Did cake come first or time?
To solve this dichotomy I have a simple rule for myself. Whenever I am about to check the time I ask myself ‘will knowing the time change what I am about to do?’. If the answer is no, then I don’t check the time.