resisting the death cult of capitalist time

Plus a Spiral Time workshop through the Glasgow Zine Library!

Yesterday I was having a very slow day, on account of both me and Joel feeling a little under the weather (nothing serious, maybe a little bug)—the sort of “under the weather” that we are totally expected as units of “human capital”¹ to push through as evidence of our virtuous work ethic. Yet even knowing that grind culture is BS—that, indeed, work is BS—and notwithstanding the fact that I literally preach s-l-o-w-i-n-g doooowwwwn on a regular basis, I still find myself feeling anxious about days like this when, for no terribly good reason, I still don’t check much of anything off my to-do list.

What exactly is it I am so worried about when I feel anxious about a low-key day?

I think it has everything to do with a deeply ingrained urge to “get things done”—or more accurately, “get the most things done in the most efficient way possible over the course of a lifetime.” That is really the background noise animating my anxiety.

It’s about the fear that when I approach the end of my life (which, by definition, grows closer daily), I will look back on my life and be filled with regret and shame that it somehow doesn’t “add up.”

That there is no trajectory I can graph and point to and say: “This was my life. See? It’s an unerring line that goes up—in salary, in prestige, in skill, in accomplishment, in recognition, in things made and work produced—and therefore, it is a successful and meaningful life.”

In such a view of life, any day not spent climbing that slope is “wasted time,” right?

this is not life!

But what if life isn’t a linear equation mapped on a simple graph with just an X and a Y axis? What if a life is a much more complex—infinitely complex—matrix where “upward” trajectories along one plane are insignificant constructs in the mystical immenseness and complexity of being? 

What if instead we lived in the enchantment and awe of the infinite spiraling matrix of time and space that is being?

And what if living like that made us want to do less, and be more?

How fast would we really feel we need to go in any day/hour/minute if we could actually take in the reality that the earth is spinning on its axis at about 1000 miles per hour; and it is rotating around the sun at about 67,000 miles per hour; and the solar system is spinning in the Milky Way galaxy at about half a million miles per hour; and the Milky Way galaxy is moving toward the edges of the universe at about 1.3 million miles per hour? 

Maybe we’re moving quite fast enough! It seems to me that, in the face of all this awesome and swirling speed and movement, some reverent stillness and being, as opposed to feverish doing and making, is an exceptionally appropriate response. 

I’m not saying that doing and making are not also a reverent response to the awe of our being in the universe. I love creating—it is at the heart of much of the joy and meaning in my life. But I am no longer interested in judging my doing and my making according to the speed of the death cult of capitalist time. 

Does this mean that my life will be less “accomplished” than it might otherwise have been? Without doubt. Does this mean that there are creations inside of me that will never get made before I die? Almost certainly. Does this mean that I will have dless impact, less influence, than I might have if I had hustled more? Definitely (for better and for worse). 

But I no longer want to live at the speed of capital, according to capital’s values.

I want to live at the speed of the the changing angle of sunlight above the horizon, of the changing length of daylight, waxing and waning a few minutes each day that it shines down on the little patch of the galaxy I call home.

the winter sky through my beloved sycamore, aka London plane tree

Slanting winter light is my favorite; I am a daughter of the North, a winter witch. I like the cold, I love the snow. When the days begin to lengthen and the sun moves higher in the sky, my first instinct is to mourn the end of long dark mornings and early dark evenings, lit by candles, swathed in cozy sweaters and scarves, hands wrapped round hot drinks.

slanting winter light outside my home

But it’s hard to feel regret for long. This year we celebrated, with a small group of friends, the Celtic festival of Imbolc, the halfway point between the solstice and the equinox, traditionally the harbinger of Spring. We lit candles, we ate good food, we drank wine and non-alcoholic beer, we listened to a communally curated “sun song” playlist, we wrote poetry together about the sun and the light. We welcomed the lengthening days, the warming earth, and the communal ritual of it lifted my spirits and made me excited for Spring.

April is right around the corner!

Whether or not “time” is “real” or “just a construct” is ultimately a question for more philosophical minds than mine, but where time feels real in my life is in the turning of the seasons. And in this season, here in the North, it is the time for starting seeds, facing them to the growing light and planting them in the thawing ground. A garden, even the littlest patch of a garden, can ground you like nothing else in a sane² sense of temporal reality.

My growing faith in a more reverent way of spiraling through time is at the heart of my ritual practice these days—a practice of finding metaphors, telling stories, and gathering communities that can hold and celebrate joy and awe in resistance to the onslaught of the death cult of time under capitalism that is constantly rushing at us.

If you would like to think more about Time with me, I have been engaged by The Glasgow Zine Library to lead a series of Divergent Design workshops, beginning with Spiral Time. Even if you have been to my Spiral Time workshop before, or if you have read my free ebook, this workshop will include new ideas and insights. Tickets are £12 (about $15USD), and the workshop will be held online, so anyone can join!

1. At Joel’s job, they have started saying the quiet part out loud, and calling employees “human capital”—not “labor,” not even “human resources” (which was already bad enough).

2. Of course, I think sanity is overrated, especially in a world as dysfunctional as our own … but ykwim.