Endless to-do lists.
The clock in the corner of our laptop screens. The clock on our phones.
Walking from room to room, phones uselessly, randomly, automatically in our hands.
Outside, with no destination in mind, nowhere in particular to go - we still rush. Why do we rush?
In the bath, the music from our phones dipping in volume every minute or so as yet another email comes through.
Curled up on the sofa, finally doing nothing - but on the TV over in the corner is the news, and we are still absorbing.
We're so busy, and we never switch off.
At least, I don't. Even when I have the opportunity to just stop, there are still 'better' things I could be doing: revising for my theory test, revising for my exams, thinking up post ideas, filming and editing YouTube videos, taking bookstagram photos, working, talking to someone, eating something, reading one of the many unread books I own. I don't consciously think it - the sentence 'I don't have time to rest' doesn't flit through my brain - but clearly, somewhere, that's what my body believes.
And when my eyes hurt, my head aches, and I have a literal pain in the neck from looking down at my laptop all day, I put some clothes on, run a brush through my hair, throw my phone on the bed and get out of here. A five-minute walk in any direction and I'm in a field.
Fields are nice.
I force myself to wander slowly rather than walk so fast my feet only skim the concrete. I leave my phone behind so time loses meaning and I'm blissfully unaware of the notifications popping up from people demanding I do this or look at that. I don't let myself think about work, college, or anything else even vaguely stressful.
I did this today. That's how this blog post was born. And I discovered something new in my town - a seating area with flowers and setting sun where the broken, graffitied skate ramps used to be. It's a tiny town and I've lived here for the best part of two decades but I'm usually too quick, too preoccupied, too much in the past or the future to see the present.
Forcing myself to just be is important. And, apparently, it can birth deep blog posts when I haven't been able to write one in weeks.
But yes. Fields. I encourage you to go and sit in one and take some time out in a world obsessed with time.
