Observations On Time

I'll be 49 this Sunday.  I've got time on my mind.  Taos Time, that is.  Others have noticed well before me --notably D.H. Lawrence -- that time moves differently here.

Locals in Taos seem to barely accept the measures of time that the world at large has adopted.  Watches are virtually never worn here.  Business hours of the shops and galleries in town rarely seem to be according to any kind of schedule.  In fact, it's common to see a sign on the door saying what the hours "might be" with an explanation that the shopkeeper is out _______________ (fill in the blank). 

Around these parts, we sometimes like to say "Carpe Manana."  It's not a complete disregard of the standards of time.  The time to do something will eventually arrive, but it's probably not right now.  It's more like an acknowledgment that perhaps we all need to slow down a little.  In other cases it's just another way of saying "No."

I've noticed that many of us in Taos have set our body clocks to the cycles that nature provides.  We rise with the sun, for example.  Who would want to miss that glorious sunrise over the foothills of the Sangre de Christos on the outskirts of town each morning?  The middle of the day involves running errands and performing chores while the sun is high in the sky.  

Fact is, I rely upon a natural rhythm to do my job well.  Working 7-days a week as an Innkeeper, sometimes 12 to 16 hours a day, I'm best when I'm "in the rhythm of Taos."  It may be next week that I get a day off or it may be 3 months from now, so a natural cyclic rhythm is essential.  

I have to admit that it's no small help that I love my job.  It's just that if I measured the hours or the days. . . let's just say it wouldn't work.

But let's take a less concrete perspective.  I encourage you to jump into the realm of the abstract with me.  

Most of us think of time as the clock or the calendar -- in other words, a construct that people have invented to assist in commerce, mark religious observances or to otherwise organize their lives.  These measures of time, however, rely upon an element of faith that everyone else will observe the same rules of time as you.

Step back from the clock and calendar.  People are believed to have moved to Taos permanently about 1000 years ago.  A millennium ago.  They have farmed the land, built homes, lived and died here for centuries.  Each successive generation built where their ancestors lived and each passing season has brought the Story of Taos to the present.  

To be in Taos is to move both forward and backward across time.  D.H. Lawrence notwithstanding, as a first-time visitor you need to surrender to this aspect of Taos.  Take that watch off, please.

In the Native American tradition, time may be thought of as seasons and generations -- in most ways it is explained in their traditional stories.  There are no mentions of years or months.  If you think of time as a continuum composed of your ancestors, your understanding of the world around you shifts doesn't it?  If you think of time as successive seasons, you can understand it without trying to remember the name of the year or the month.  Time has more context than a date.

In Taos, time might be thought of as the ground you stand on.   Layers of life and of dirt, sand, and rock beneath you measure time.  In a place like Taos, the layers of life spanning back a thousand years might be just at the surface, or they may be buried under mankind's intentional efforts to cover over the past.  

In a place as old as Taos, digging in the dirt is tantamount to unearthing a time machine.   

I think you get my point:  let yourself experience a time shift in Taos.  Don't worry.  Those measures of time you left behind beyond the mountains will still be there when you get back.  It is our hope that after a few visits to Taos you'll never see time the same way again.