Time Travelling for Dummies

Photo by  AJ Garcia  on  Unsplash

Photo by AJ Garcia on Unsplash

I took the last week off from blogging to hunker down and work and simultaneously recharge my batteries, and boy howdy it was a good call on both counts. Work, check. Batteries, double check.

It’s Victoria Day here in Canada, which means I’m at the tail end of a three-day weekend. You may recall that the last long weekend hit me pretty hard: I had the worst case of Sunday blues I think I’ve ever had, exacerbated by the guilt of not feeling grateful for extra time away from work. Well friends, not this weekend.

Do I have a hint of Sunday blues right now? Oh you bet your sweet bippy I do. But it’s so faint. It’s more like nostalgia or grateful reverence than the frantic, angry fear of someone about to be dragged kicking and screaming away from their home and back to their desk. So why is this weekend different?

Because I time travelled all weekend.

That’s right motherfuckers, I’m magic. Don’t act like you didn’t suspect it this whole time.

From 5pm Friday onward, I had an incredible sense of moment-to-moment awareness. I felt so locked in to everything I was doing that time became positively irrelevant. Birds sang around me. Food tasted fucking delicious. I literally hung out with friends in a sunny park by the ocean for hours, then we ordered takeout nachos and wings and someone SKATEBOARDED over to pick it up. My husband and I made margaritas for no reason other than to drink margaritas by ourselves on our patio. I weeded all three of our giant gardens and planted all of our annuals. I cleaned the house and did the laundry. I went to work and finished a huge project. I golfed. I got a tan. I walked my dog. I shopped. I GOT A FUCKING MASSAGE!

My friends, I packed so much goodness and productivity into this single weekend through sheer, unadulterated mindfulness. Time seemed to pass so slowly because it was so sweet, but also so quickly because it was so effortless. I slept like a kid who was played the fuck out, but really, I was just blissed out from being in it all weekend. I was straight knackered from so much time travelling.

This is the type of resonant living I’m so obsessed with. I had a to-do list (or, as I prefer, a “to flow” list), and a good chunk of it got done. I had scheduled and non-scheduled components to every day. I had a work deadline to meet and personal obligations to fulfill. But it was all in such marvelous harmony that it positively resonated. As I’ve heard a few podcasters say recently, moments of exceptional weekend living wake us up and cause us to hit the start of the workweek ready to “burn it to the ground.” We realize that every second of life is so magical, so good, so resonant that we suddenly refuse to settle for less.

As a friend who is an entrepreneur says, “what has everyone got against Mondays? Maybe people need to look at what makes them hate their workweek so much.” True story, girlfriend. I’m ready to burn it to the ground. You don’t just time travel and come back the same.