Tag: Years

Got rhythm

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We are approaching the end of December, which (in the UK) means short days, cold weather and a ubiquitous festive season as the year comes to an end. While it seems in many ways a strange time to think about new beginnings (in the dead of winter, during the coldest, darkest days), a new year is often cause for resolution and reflection.

I once worked in a lab that was researching circadian rhythms, the twenty-four hour intrinsic cycles present in every one of our bodily cells, as the earth spins on its axis. I have thought quite a lot this year about the importance of rhythm for human beings, above and beyond that physiological clock. The power of daily habits, and the higher level weekly and monthly cadences required to really get things done. The magic of music, or the beautiful beat intrinsic to swimming, or running.

The turning of the seasons, and the passing of the years is the earth’s higher rhythm, and it feels just right. A year is short enough to grasp, but long enough to see change in yourself and in the world (whether you like it or not). As we hurtle around the sun, we dance to its cosmic beat.

Two percent

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I used to work with a man called Michael who changed the way I think about time. It was the first day of the second week of January 2014, and he observed that we were 2 percent through the year.

I had never thought of one week in those terms. A year is obviously a significant amount of time, while weeks seem to come and go. Two percent is little enough to make sense with how weeks feel, but large enough to make each week very meaningful and precious. It is daunting to think about a fortnight as nearly five percent (!), and I now can’t plan a long weekend without thinking about it as one percent of my days this year.

I think a decent amount about time (it is the only thing we have, but that is a topic for another day). Wait But Why‘s bits on the subject are particularly thought-provoking and terrifying, while my cousin’s edict to “max your days” is always ringing in my ears.

If I told Mike how often I thought about two percent, and by extension about him, I think he would probably find it kind of strange.