I just went calendar shopping. What a fiasco.
I’m no expert in psychology, but I’ve watched enough Derren Brown and studied enough on my own to know the things we see throughout a day can be extremely formative of our thoughts and choices we make. Hell, why would advertisers drop billions each year just to get a little slice of that daily picture?
So when it comes to calendar shopping, you have this idea of images influencing moments morphed into a single picture, where each day of 2018 is laid out below images that could inspire … well, that’s the thing; those images could influence the very content of those days.
That’s a lot of pressure.
Of course, I’m completely overthinking this one (I mean, it’s just a calendar), but I find myself drifting to different scenarios where the Rumi-themed calendar shifts my perspective towards love and relationships on a given day and steers me away from an argument that might have messed with my mood for a few days that week.
Or the National Geographic traveler’s themed calendar, which could keep my love for exploring front and center, making it a more likely topic to ponder throughout the day, possibly even leading me to new destinations. Who knows?
The space-themed calendar reminded me of our place in the cosmos, and the pale blue dot kinda thing that always keeps me grounded in some way. It’s how the little details connect to the big picture.
Oh, and then there were those Japanese gardens and short phrases on mindfulness. I was just thinking about how I should meditate more and how both the studies and anecdotes tell me it can have a profound impact on one’s life.
Or what about a Vincent Van Gogh calendar? A creative, artistic environment could be inspiring for me to get a thing or two done, the kind of things that tap into the creative side — writing, photography, or who knows, maybe even painting. It’s one of the many versions of my future I find myself pondering as I look at the blank 2018 canvasses spread throughout the store.
So far, this isn’t going anywhere but possibilities. What’s the point of overthinking calendars?
I’m not sure, but I thought writing it out might help me process through these heavy life decisions. I suppose not.
At least not today. After an hour or so had gone by, they announced the store was closing, and I walked out empty-handed.
How embarrassing. I just wasted an hour of my 2017 calendar year looking at 2018 calendars.
Who needs a calendar anyways? Remember back in the day when people just existed in time rather than messing with it before the moment even arrives?
My romantic side yearns for these times before time devoured our attention, but then my body looks around at the bustling city around me and knows that I have appointments scattered throughout those blocks in 2018, that stacks of papers around me include bills with real deadlines, and the baby lying beside me will have checkups that will add to the swath of moments in 2018, moments that can’t just come and go, but require intention and organization.
And so life goes in the Anthropocene. May it someday seem as absurd to future earth-dwellers as it would seem to those who came before us.
Time will tell.