Happy New Year and welcome to the first day (and first Saturday) of 2022 here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is January 1st.
Way back in my English teaching days in the Czech Republic,
I had a client who never wore a watch. He insisted that, between his cellphone and
the rest of the world, knowing the time was an easy glance away. He was an
impressive guy, a nuclear physicist turned successful entrepreneur who had
learned English by listening to Dick Tracy audio cassettes, so I thought, Why not?
If he doesn’t need a watch, I don’t either.
I’ve held true to this belief for twenty years. I’m a
minimalist and generally don’t like carrying things. My handbag is a backpack. I’m not big on jewelry wearing
either. A wrist without a watch aligns with my “less is more” philosophy. When
I want to know the time and nothing around me is blinking the seconds away,
well, I can always just guess what time it is approximately. You know, the sun
and its position in the sky, when I ate my last meal, and whatnot. I can even do
a neat trick. I can lay down for a ten-minute nap, not set a timer, and wake up ten minutes later! I am a clock. I don’t require
batteries. I don't need to be plugged in. I am a veritable keeper of time.
That is, until two weeks ago when I participated in a holiday event
that required me to know exactly what time it was at all times. The event host worried about staying on time and, most importantly, ending on
time. “I’ll keep an eye on the time,” I assured him as two thoughts jockeyed for my brain space. 1) To keep track of time I would have to look at my phone – which would not look very cool to be constantly checking my phone like a kid with SnapChat and 2) which meant I would have to rely on a clock on the premises and I was pretty sure there would be no visible
clocks at the designated event location.
No worries, I told
myself. I would pop into a Target and buy myself a watch just before the event. This would have been totally doable except for one very predictable factor
that every Minnesotan knows to take into consideration when making plans,
especially during the winter. Yep. Weather.
With no time to buy a watch, I noticed my two co-presenters were wearing watches and asked if
I might borrow theirs. (Shameless, I know. But desperate times call for desperate measures.) The first one offered his smartwatch. I cringed with
fear. A smartwatch meant tapping the screen to see the time. What if I
tapped and screwed up his settings, or opened his email, or started
playing music? As if he could read my mind, the other man deftly unclasped
his watch from his wrist and said, “Here.” His was a plain old watch.
Something like what my father-in-law would wear. It had a brown leather band
and a face with numbers large enough to see so I could be svelte and surreptitious
while leading the panel Q&A. For seventy minutes, I felt a new kind of love
I hadn’t felt for an object in years. The man with the simple watch was quick
to ask for his timepiece back before I floated away on my cloud nine of delight.
Afterward, I raved to my daughter about how the watch had saved me. How I had
enjoyed the feel of leather against my skin – like time itself curled comfortably
around my wrist like a snoozing cat.
Guess what I got for Christmas?
My watch has a long, slim blue leather band that wraps
neatly around my wrist, something I greatly appreciate because I have thick
wrists. Two free loops hold the band tail securely in place. The hardware is rose gold. The face is mother of pearl. Golden
lines mark time in lieu of numbers. My watch isn’t smart, but the minute hand
and hour hand glow in the dark, and it appears to be waterproof for up to 3
meters. Streamlined, elegant, and, best of all, simple.
Ever since I received the watch, I have been thinking about
time. About how much I enjoy knowing what time it is. About how we have only
three clocks hanging up in our house – one in the kitchen and two in our bedroom.
About how often I look at my phone to see what time it is. About how much I
rely on devices – my phone, my computer, the television, the microwave – to tell
me what time it is. And about how my watch frees me from these devices.
Due to the snowy and subzero temperatures we had across
Minnesota the week after Christmas, our intended, short, down-and-back trip to my aunt’s turned
into a four-day adventure of carefree timelessness at her house. With nowhere to be, no
homework or work to be done, we hung out. Kids built a snow fort and we
shoveled tons of snow. We colored in those fancy, highly detailed adult coloring books,
put together a Christmas puzzle while singing Christmas tunes streamed from
Amazon Music, watched movies, and played a game called Ransom Notes. (I highly recommend it.) With no sense
of urgency to do or be, we just … were.
Together.
This past year, I read The Big Leap by Gay Hendricks. In this book, Hendricks encourages readers to
consider themselves as creators of time rather than chasers of time. I like
this kind of thinking. Author Matthew Kelly writes, "Relationships don’t
thrive under the pressures of our modern-day schedules. All of life’s important
relationships thrive under the condition of carefree timelessness. Learn to
waste time with the people you love."
Whether you wear a watch or not, whether it’s smart or not,
may you be the creators of your time. Enjoy and embrace the beauty of shaping and
bending it around your loved people and your loved projects.
When you are present, may you find, like me, there’s plenty of time.
On This Day
Historic Highlights (credits)
Happy Birthday to You!🎶
Remembering You
Kim
My late Uncle Raymond Palm was a jeweler and a watchmaker; he also was a gunsmith. Born in 1911, he was a paraplegic and wheelchair bound since he was 20 years old; he died at age 91, seventy of his years in that wheelchair and about 65 of those years fixing and selling watches and clocks. He wasn't fond of cuckoo clocks, but tolerated cuckoos that walked into his shop under their own power.
ReplyDeleteHe had several mantle clocks; and pendulum clocks; and many many wristwatches hanging on his "Repaired Watches" board, so 24-hours a day, 365+366 days of the years in his life, time was marked by a tick, or tock. That little tick of time was always in the background of conversations ... tick tick tick tick tick ... about watches, handguns, shotguns, and rifles and ammunition, customer's lives, the weather, the latest strange things seen or heard, family histories, or friends in common.
But Raymond talked little of himself, that being his most admired characteristic --other than generosity and genuine compassion for others -- was that he was never one to lament his situation or complain. Tick, tick, tick, tick.
He often wore more than one wristwatch on his wrists, referring to them on occasion just to make sure they were running as expected. He may have known what time it was when asked, but whether he kept track of it, I have my doubts, as he was never pressed for time, and serving a life sentence anyway.
Love this! Thank you so much for sharing this story. May we all learn to be more humble, genuine and compassionate.
DeleteA timeless pose and one of your best!. To weigh in on the watch thingy, I have a fine Rolex in my ~jewelry box. I haven't worn it since at least 1999, the year we moved North to Beltrami Island Forest.
ReplyDeleteOh, and oops! on the gift I gave you recently. It did not add to your minimalist view, a most admirable view to be sure.
Quite the contrary! The gift you gave me is beautiful art and has a special story behind it. That's my favorite kind of jewelry. :)
DeleteGreat post! Just remember not to swim in the deep end of the pool wearing your new watch.
ReplyDeleteLOL. Noted.
Delete