Last week was my final days of university before the summer break. We were scheduled to be on campus for three days; however, with the blockades and protests of the rising cost of fuel in Ireland, we were moved online. This meant that I was able to turn off my alarm and turn in for the night without the pressure of a jarring morning filled with what I call “up and at ‘em ” energy. This also meant that I was able to wake early and take my time.
What a great phrase: take my time. A quick Google search tells me that the phrase was first recorded in the year 1673, with a definition of “to be leisurely and unhurried about doing something”. It is often linked to a much broader turn of activity during the Industrial Revolution, in which time became more structured with scheduled productivity. This is when the phrase ‘take your time’ almost became like a subtle subversion of the paradigm shift. Perhaps, it could be argued that this remains relevant today. While the world has moved on from the Industrial Revolution’s 12-16 hour work day (yes, you read that right) in which people were controlled by the factor bell, we are still working long hours due to constant connectivity, only we are controlled by our devices.
Unstructured time is one of my non-negotiables. It might feel luxurious to those with small children, or jam-packed calendars that require a high level of organisation. However, unstructured time is pretty important for reflection, recovery and creativity. It provides the space for ideas to gestate so that insight can arise. More importantly, it restores our autonomy or ability to choose where it is that we place our energy, which can connect us in with the things that bring meaning into our life.
This brings me to that wonderful surprise of being given the space to take my time on a scheduled university morning. Despite the fact that my alarm was switched off, I was awoken by the singing of the first bird of my garden dawn chorus: the resident black bird. It was almost as if he was perched right outside of my bedroom window beckoning me to wake up and to take my time.
I got up, wrapped myself in my dressing gown, made a cup of tea and went out to sit and listen. Soon, the robin started to sing. And then a collared dove in the distance. And then before long, the full cacophony had begun. What a delight it was to be given the gift of this natural concert. If I hadn’t taken my time and made the choice to listen, I would have missed it all.
If you would like to take your time with some meditation practice, why not join me at the Sanctuary’s Tuesday morning meditation session at 10 am (Tuesday). Or, if you are feeling inspired, I am waking early on Sunday May 3rd for International Dawn Chorus day to touch in with the marvel of this melodic performance. It would be wonderful to know that you are there, too.
-Jane
My Silent Place 
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