What are we saving time for?

originally published on substack: https://tresvezesm.substack.com/p/what-are-we-saving-time-for?r=b5f06&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=post%20viewer

I was folding my clothes...

and thinking about all the little things we have to master in life.

Folding socks, for example.

I do it probably once a week - twice, if the family activities demand it. Over the years I’ve tried different techniques to fold socks and underwear, but especially socks - different combinations to adapt to the available space.

Most of the time, while I’m folding and stretching, making sure there are no holes or loose elastics, there is a voice in my head asking, do you absolutely need to fold all of them?

Well, yes, I do. It is easier to keep them like that. We have drawers, you know. And drawers have a limited amount of space; I mean, in material physical 3d space.

As humans living this experience, there are a lot of little things we have to deal with. Like fitting objects into one another. I have to rely, expect, and predict physicality and limits. I have to admit I’m not really good at it. I often find myself carrying more from the supermarket than what my bag can take. I believe it always fits more stuff than what it actually does. Either way, it is just easier to accept that limits and space are very important conditions of our (very) limited reality. There are battles we can’t win.

When this happens, I wish I had a magic bag like Hermione. The one that is so tiny that it looks like only a lollipop will fit, but when she opens it, there is a full tent, chairs and all, for a party of 3.

Or one like Doraemon’s. It fits entire universes inside.

I was folding my clothes,

and I remembered this mind game I used to play when I was a little girl.

I used to ask myself,

if I was visiting Earth for the first time, how would I like things to be explained to me?

if humanity was no longer around and I was visiting the planet, all by myself, what could I recreate of them? What would they have been like?

What would I think of these blocks called buildings, the trees? If I’ve never seen such a thing before. I mean, I could tell they were not human, but… what was their purpose being there, just standing there?

And with those premises, I started to mentally describe what I was seeing. Buildings, people, grass, dogs. I then explained some of the things we do. Things like,

“do you see that man? he is wearing what we call a suit. Sometimes we use it for going to work, important meetings and parties, stuff like that.”

“oh, you want to know what work is? And why we need to work? To make money, of course. Money is the currency we use to buy the things we need to live. You want to know more about money?”

It could go on and on.

I would not go into details. At the time, my imagination could not go that far.

I made up a whole cosmology only to explain how I would like the planet, humans, our habits, to be described.

I was probably romanticising some things, but I felt better that way — for the foreigner’s sake, of course. I did not want him to feel scared or so shocked by our rude ways that it would drive him away. Or worse! leave Earth with a very bad review. We all have good and bad in us. It is the oldest battle of humankind and it starts within ourselves.

After many conversations like this, explaining the Earth and its inhabitants to the foreigners, no matter where this naive and full-of-loose-ends inner dialogue would lead me, I developed the feeling that what I was explaining was not grandiose at all.

It was small, rudimental, limited in so many ways. I could imagine the face of my imaginary foreigner visitor. He could understand everything in one fraction of a second - and, at the same time, see how limited and simple minded we are. There was no point in hiding because he could recognise our beauties, our faults and our preconceived limits for himself, no matter how I tried to sugarcoat our practical and aesthetical decisions. I had no excuse for the big blocks of cement, or for the lack of green, or for the boxy cars and ugly roads. There were limitations everywhere.

We did not plan for limits to be there. I dare to say we did not plan anything at all. Like the trees, they simply were here, way before we can even remember.

I no longer play that game

or maybe I do, but not that often

but sometimes I still feel like I am an outside observer. Like I am the foreigner. And I feel intrigued, curious, amazed, many feelings at the same time. I feel like it’s the first time seeing all the things man does, how he does it. Sometimes I feel so crushed by sadness that I cry. Other times, the beauty is so overwhelming that I cry even more.

Considering our limitations, our dualities and beliefs, all the good and bad, I ultimately believe we are fascinating, unique, naive, lovable. A special kind of kind.

Look at the techniques, tools, accessories, machines, all the intricate items we developed to make our life more comfortable and, ultimately, help us save time.

We invented toasters because sometimes we like crunchy bread and most houses no longer have fireplaces. It saves time on the morning toast.

A woman invented the washing machine because she was sick of washing dishes and forks and spoons that keep magically appearing in the kitchen sink. It made her job so much easier.

But still, the machine also needs to be cleaned and occasionally unclogged. The physicalities never end (?)

We invent and create many amazing things to reply to the demands of hard and cruel times, but also (and mainly) to reply to the demand of our very own physicality, of the things we simply can’t overcome.

Even when industries and systems make conditions horrible to live in, we are still creative and use our God-given imagination. To make things harder, some of those beautiful creations will hardly see the light of day until our systems change and the environment becomes less threatening to real life-changing discoveries.

I ask. Do we believe we are doing things the right way, using all these short-cuts? Are we really that short on time?

Or are we just bad managers, putting too much of it where it does not matter, and watering so little what does?

Maybe time it’s not the most important currency. Maybe we have been focusing on the wrong thing all along.

Maybe life is more important. And beauty, and joy, and fulfilment, and creating for the sake of each other. Creating for the love of humanity. The system is just very good at distractions. Keep creating is a glorious way of honouring our Creator.

But still, time is the currency we worry about the most.

What are we saving time for?

The obvious answer would be, to do the things that matter.

But, in the end, what really matters?

I ask myself this question many times.

I don’t have the answer, but I believe God does.

I was folding my clothes…

and the question popped up again.

The same inner voice asking, do you really need to do this?

It caught me off guard.

“I mean, I don’t need to but it is better this way. We had discussed this. What’s up with the socks again?”

What is this task preventing you from doing instead?

What are you avoiding to do… to be folding pairs of socks instead?

And these are inevitable questions that I must fall under sometimes. My Creator must keep me in line and check if I am doing my part creating or if I’m falling prey to the deception of daily life.

From my point of view, it is a constant search for balance. Almost a power struggle; a small battle of good-versus-evil that we can’t escape.

Sometimes we do too much folding, or sweeping, or listing, or cleaning — enough to keep body and mind occupied from other relevant tasks. We fall prey to the false shortage of time and other false pretenses. It happens more often than what I like to admit to myself.

Refusing to see it as bad time management (or worse, poor prioritisation) and using “I have no time” like a stamp. It’s easy, everybody understands, and few people question it.

God questions it. And does his best to keep us on track, whether we like it or not.

Other times, we do so many of the relevant tasks that we forget (and stop caring) about our sock folding, underwear sewing, food making, bathing or teeth washing. We stop taking care of the body, almost refusing to accept that we must breathe, eat, see a doctor occasionally, do whatever we can to enjoy our time here.

I believe God does not want us to forget that he gave us this body for a reason. With all its limits, I could never see it as a punishment. It is a challenge, but a delicate and beautiful one. We have to keep things balanced, you see. Our physicality demands it.

When I leave this realm, and when I meet again with God, I hope he has all of this under consideration.

If I must fall under some kind of judgment, and if - like the Egyptians - my heart is weighted on a very delicate scale, I hope I do not feel the embarrassment of all the sock folding I’ve done. Of all the stains I’ve manually cleaned from the floor.

I hope God has sympathy for stains at all. I hope He can see that there was no other way around it - if a stain is there, it must be cleaned or the white silk blouse will never be the same again.

“Father, I’ve bought organic silk. I had to do it. I hope you understand.”

I hope He knows about all the layers we had to deal with. Practically and consensually proclaimed so. Like the hour changing twice a year. Like a piece of paper that is called money. Like wearing different types of shoes for different occasions.

Maybe he will say,

This was none of my doing. Your kind created all these complicated things. You’ve made your life so much harder. I made it plain and easy for everyone to get along. I’ve created such a beautiful place! You simply can’t have good things.

But these are not his words at all. This looks like what an angry and resentful dad would say to his spoiled child. Definitely not Him.

But deep down, fearing my own judgment and faults and vulnerabilities,

I hope he understands what it is like to live in a city in 2026.

I hope he has more sympathy and wisdom than the foreigners.

I was folding my clothes and another question popped, but this time with curiosity.

Do you really need 25 pairs of socks? One for each day of the month almost?

Now I am explaining how the world works to the Creator himself. Now He is the one curious! With me!

Yes, Father. I would still have to wash them, you see. And if I only had 2 pairs, I would have to wash socks everyday. And, as we have discussed before, we have to learn to make our lives easier in any way we can. This is a wild world.

He didn’t have anything to add to this. I believe he understands now.

(he probably knew all the time. He is just making sure I know. and understand. and learn to love the physicality of it.)