We did the whole daylight savings time thing again this past weekend, spinning the clocks forward an hour.  For what?  To see the sun set an hour later?  Great, but it means the sun rises an hour later as well.  I got up at five this morning.  It was dark.  I had no reason to be up that early.  I read the New York Times.  The stock market was plummeting as cases of coronavirus were sky rocketing.  As far as I can tell, the only thing switching our clocks accomplishes anymore is to throw off our collective circadian rhythms for a day or two.  Like we need that with everything else that is going on.  It’s like doing shots of Red Bull with coffee in the morning.

As much as I want to see the Democratic nominee beat Trump, and as much as I think the Democratic President should spend his first twenty-four hours reversing or eliminating every single one of Trump’ Executive Orders, I’d love to see the new President call it quits on the change the clocks absurdity.  He could get rid of pennies too while he’s at it.  Think about it.  Who would even notice?  Today, the newly elected President reinstated the DACA program, banned the separation of families at the border, ordered the Justice Department to cease investigations into debunked Russian conspiracies, reinstated the Obama-era rules on auto emissions, and eliminated pennies and daylight savings time.  You won’t get that extra hour of sleep this fall, and you’ll have to start throwing nickels into the tip jar of your favorite barista.  Deal with it.

Speaking of pennies, when was the last time you said to someone, “A penny for your thoughts?”  This curious question popped into my head this morning around 9:30.  I had already read as much of the paper as I could handle, folded the sheets that had been sitting in the chaise lounge in our bedroom since last Thursday, and ridden my bike while watching (for the sixth or seventh time) an episode of Game of Thrones.  Don’t judge me.  Each episode is about an hour long and it gets me on the bike.  Still, after all that, it was only 9:30.

Nick showed up to return the car before heading into work, but first he raided the refrigerator.  We sat four feet apart at the table eating breakfast – his first, my second.  After a few minutes of silence, I looked up from my iPad thinking I had been rude to ignore Nick.  His eyes, and presumably his brain, were trained on his phone.  It was then, in the awareness that we had been sitting so close in silence that I realized we no longer use that phrase, “a penny for your thoughts,” because we never see anyone idly staring into space, daydreaming, or zoning out.  What exactly does that mean?  Do we not have our own thoughts anymore?

In addition to the other things I had more or less accomplished that morning, I had forced myself, after being ginned up to the point of combustion, to take a few deep breaths, sit quietly and watch my thoughts parade through my head.  I tried to pinpoint the exact moment each thought popped into my head while simultaneously trying to extend the time between one thought vanishing and the next one appearing.  This is an exercise Eckhardt Tolle suggests in his book The Power of Now.  When I become intensely focused without judgment on watching my thoughts, a curious thing happens.  I begin to sense a difference between the person watching the thoughts and the thought itself.  That “gap,” that awareness, eventually stops the incessant parade of thoughts, like force quitting a program that refuses to shut down.  

Nick finished his bagel, said good-bye and headed out the door, with, I might add, the leftovers from dinner the night before.  We pay it forward, even the little stuff.

I’m sitting here now unable to stop wondering about what I used to daydream about. What did it feel like to drift off without noticing that I was drifting off?  Was it the same as intentionally watching my thoughts? I don’t remember, but I do remember my mom and dad catching me staring into space and asking, “a penny for your thoughts.”  And I remember never having a good answer.  I don’t remember what I was thinking, except that it was pleasant, a respite, a cool, long drink of cold water on a hot day.  

I will probably fall to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight. I will probably wake up at a more reasonable hour tomorrow.  And, I will inevitably turn on my iPad and read the New York Times.  But first, I think I’ll sit in a comfortable chair with a cup of coffee and drift off into a daydream.