Ana Jonessy

When I was a kid, I remember being completely immersed in something–whether it was building a fort in the backyard, reading a book my sister borrowed from the library, listening to ghost stories told by my brothers and their friends, observing strange insects, or sharing the wild fruits I foraged with my friends–nothing else mattered. These moments were so special to me because they allowed me to fully engage with the world around me. When we give our full attention to something, we can connect with others on a deeper level, build stronger relationships, and create meaningful work. Giving and receiving attention is a personalized experience, with each of us having our distinct guidelines. Some of us offer it abundantly, like water from a well, while others are more intentional about the things/persons they give their attention to, offering it only when it's truly needed and necessary. Similarly, we all have different needs for how we want to receive attention. Some of us want constant connection and interaction, while others need more space and independence. Either way, it's important to recognize and honor these unique needs, and it's up to us to navigate those needs in a mutually respectful way, rather than imposing our expectations onto others. When I think about the gift of attention, I can't help but also think about how capitalism steals our time and then sells it back to us. We live in a world where we are constantly bombarded with distractions - advertisements and notifications - all vying for our attention and pulling us away from our bliss. Capitalism has a knack for seizing time and molding it to its own rhythm, a tune that's often out of sync with our own. In January 1906, thousands of cotton mill workers rioted in Bombay, protesting against the proposed abolition of local time (which would be replaced by Indian Standard Time, set five-and-a-half hours ahead of Greenwich). It was a ruthless move to subjugate local customs and a way for Britannia to reinforce its dominance. The advent of time zones is just one of many instances where the concept of time was altered for profit, leaving a lasting impact on our political, cultural, and personal landscapes. Its effects still resonate today, reverberating far beyond the ticking of the clock. “Time reform was modernity defined in Western terms, developed to suit the interests and assumptions of the world’s wealthiest and most powerful citizens. Synchronization made it easier for European elites to project their influence and sell their goods. But losses mounted among the poor and the powerless. –A Brief History of (Modern) Time” Structurally, capitalism dictates that our worth is tied to our productivity and output–work is often seen as a means to an end. We are encouraged to work longer hours, take on more responsibilities, and sacrifice rest in the pursuit of (perceived) success. We are passive-aggressively shamed for taking breaks, and we've become accustomed to equating multitasking with skill. Systemic inequalities, unsurprisingly, are reinforced through these structures. Interpersonally, capitalism also (forcefully!) shapes the way we interact with each other. We are made to believe that our relationships are transactional. We are pressured to constantly "network" and build our social capital to advance our careers or remain relevant in each other’s orbits. In contrast, the human experience of time is intimately tied to the natural world. Our perception of time is intrinsically linked to our understanding of our place in the Universe and our connections to each other. This intangible concept has always been a creative fruit of our collective imagination. But capitalism has a way of commodifying everything that the pressure to respond quickly seeps into our irl relationships! To materialize its power and maintain stereotypes that would inscribe us as lazy, negligent, and/or uncaring, it makes us forget that it's okay to take our time (to rest and care for ourselves and each other, etc.) when responding and that we can extend that same grace to others when they don't respond right away. Capitalism disguises promptness as productivity to negate how we experience energy and creativity. It wants to (re)structure our time, movements, relationships, and our sense of self. Temporal oppression lingers on through the subtle yet pervasive ways capitalism employs space-time, and the natural world as tools of surveillance, labor control, hostile architecture, objectification, and punishment. These insidious practices persist in various forms, permeating every aspect of our lives. Time is expansive and communicative.Earlier this month, I got to experience Paisley’s world-building workshop that asked us to imagine our entries and exits, and the space(s) on the other side of our doors. I had imagined my doors and what/who they open to, and I loved it! But I still spiraled for a little bit because, in reality, there are already too many spaces that exist with a complex network of shapeshifting doors that open and shut with different degrees of accessibility and mobility (depending on our social and economic circumstances). In the same way, it feels almost impossible to imagine a world without standardized time–the hours, minutes, and seconds as we know it today. But up until the late 19th century, time isn't really a problem at all. So, I want to imagine with you a world where time is expansive and communicative - not necessarily faster or slower - but where being intentional with our attention means being deliberate and purposeful in where (and to whom) we choose to place our focus. It means recognizing the distractions designed to keep us perpetually (and anxiously!) engaged away from our understanding of how time moves for ourselves and our relationship with others. I want us to deconstruct colonized and capitalist meanings of time so that we can reclaim our spaces and autonomy. ““…time and chronology are not politically neutral. And colonizer time is not the same as time kept by the colonized.” – Meryem-Bahia Arfaoui, Time and The Colonial State” Focusing your whole being on one thing at a time is a gift–it is magic. It is pushing back against the expectations of a transactional culture that steals from under our noses, breaking away from fixed parameters, and being open to learning about alternative clocks that exist. I want us to explore frameworks of time that are generous and intimately linked to our bodies, culture, and our lived experiences, and social realities. Reimagining time.Can you feel moments of disorienting, and magical temporal shift? Where do you find yourself lost in the folds of time, where the hours stretch and contract like a breath held too long? Think about where your attention is going. How do social constructs, and geographical frameworks shape your current perceptions of time? How would you redesign your clock and gentler time-management practices for yourself that depart from colonial and capitalist linearity? Can you co-build a communal clock that appreciates and honor the intersections of identities and social positions–gender, age, disability, sexual orientation, income level/social status, etc.? I am curious to learn from your ongoing practice on timekeeping/management! You can reply to this post to share your illustration, poetry, notes, etc. on how you reimagine time and attention. How does your ‘clock’ move, feel, and look like? Who do you share your time with? [ADHD and BPD make my executive function a little wriggly by standard time. 🤭] In my home, we have three clocks (and sometimes more!)–mine, s.k, and Connor's. For me, our clocks are like a lively meeting place–our time is enriched by the experiences and interactions we have with each other. Our clocks are rarely sequential because we are attuned to ever-changing circumstances and new information. On a personal level, I heavily rely on LifeAt and Notion to schedule breaks and reminders for routine tasks and keep myself from engaging in messy, unconsidered movements made too soon, or making reckless decisions without thought for their impact. Being in charge of my own time (as opposed to linear and hierarchical time) is my antidote to haste. It opens up a gateway to myself. Or perhaps, it's just my Mars in Capricorn doing its thing. [A collection of nonlinear timelines.] When you have the time and headspace, I encourage you to read about Time Zone Protocols by Black Quantum Futurism, take a look at all the wonderful diy clocks folks have made, and reflect on these questions (and responses by others). There is much to un/learn from the history of railroads and the making of modern America, and texts on the weaponized concept of time by Rasheedah Phillips. Listen to the CKX Questions podcast, and time is a social construct by Alice Cappelle. Larissa Crawford shares some insights on her relationship to time and decolonization (and how it informs her work), and the importance of asserting our needs, expectations, and boundaries. – Thank you endlessly for reading! If this story resonates with you, please consider sharing it with a friend or two. ☕️ Ko-fi supporters get monthly little surprises. Take care.