I’ve recently started reading Oliver Burkeman’s “Four Thousand Weeks” and to say I am resonating with the material would be an understatement.
Right off the bat, Oliver jumps into an introductory section which knocks my socks off.
The part that stuck with me most, and which I hope to dive into to some extent in this post, is his exploration of the dichotomy between “Deep time” and “Clock time.”
Deep time, similar to some explanations of a “flow state,” refers to a sort of state one enters, during which one loses track of the measurable aspects of time, becoming one with the task they are engaged in. Clock time, on the other hand, is a feature of daily life we have likely all become a little too comfortable with… Burkeman softly defines "Clock time" as moments characterized by the measurement and regulation of time through schedules, appointments, and external demands.
One knows they have been sucked into deep time by thinking to themselves things such as “Oh, I’ve lost track of time. How long have we been doing this for?”
Those obsessed with day-to-day goings on might imagine a scenario like this to be a sort of nightmare occurrence, and in certain situations, it definitely could be.
I can’t imagine myself hoping to zone out moments before I’m expected to be at an appointment.
But there are definitely phases of my life when I find myself dreaming of having some time to myself, where the idea of being lost in time for a few hours feels like a fantasy.
This is exactly why I personally believe in the idea of curating chunks of deep time for oneself to get “lost” in.
It goes without saying that a suggestion like this one comes with caveats. Not everyone has the sort of schedule that can accommodate such indulgences frequently. Not everyone has the sort of capacity required to even be comfortable being “lost” in the first place.
But for those who do, it can be a treat.
I used to have fairly wide-open summers, and I was constantly taking advantage of them. Hikes in the wooded hills a few hours away from where I grew up, long reading sessions at my favourite café, the occasional solo trip to a larger nearby city…
There was always an excuse to forget I had a phone.
In fact, when the occasion allowed for it, I would tuck my phone away in my bag to avoid being reminded of the limited time I had to engage with whatever I was doing. Instead, I opted for a pre-set alarm to bring me back to reality.
Time was allowed to pass without me noticing.
The conditions aren’t always right. Sometimes the phone has to act as a GPS when I’m in a new area, or as a camera when I cross paths with a landscape that I feel the need to capture, but paper maps and digital cameras can also free you from your phone if the situation allows for it.
It does take some planning, but that’s exactly why I think of these excursions as a sort of curation.
The conditions have to be set. These occasions do happen by chance, but we’ve also built lives around clocks and schedules and appointments and meetings… And so sometimes, time needs to be made.
If any readers out there feel inspired to give it a go, any hobby will do. Crocheting, baking, running, or just about anything else that allows one to separate from tech for a predetermined amount of time will suffice.
The degree of separation can also vary depending on what best suits your own needs. If your runs are usually accompanied by a podcast or some music, try doing a few miles in silence and see how it feels.
If you are usually the type to follow your recipes from a video or an online blog, try writing it down beforehand and leaving your phone in the other room.
Experiment, and give your mind a break from the typical conditions, and you might just realize that you’ve been missing out on something important for a while now.
I’ll leave you here with a few journaling prompts for those who want to do a bit of guided thinking around this topic:
Reflect on a time when you experienced "deep time" or a flow state, where you lost track of time completely. What were you doing, and how did it feel?
Consider on the role of technology in your daily life. How often do you find yourself distracted by your phone or other devices? Are there any changes you could make to create more opportunities for deep time?
Explore the concept of "making time" for deep experiences. How does this differ from simply letting time pass? How can you cultivate a mindset that values deep engagement over mere productivity?
Imagine your ideal version of a balanced life, where both deep time and clock time coexist harmoniously. What steps can you take to move closer to this ideal?
With all that off my chest, I’d love to hear if any of you decide to try this out, or if you’re already a fan of “deep time.”
I’ll be waiting to hear how any readers adjust their normal habits and try letting go of time in the email replies and the comments below.
For now, have a good week, and I’ll see you at 100.