It is one of the great crises of our day, the more serious for its being largely unnoticed. The lack of truly ‘free time’ in our life is masked by our referring to chunks of our time as ‘free.’ But for several generations, wise observers have pointed to a radical new way that we live-in and experience time—one that tends to preclude having free time in the richest sense.
“I have time when I am not conscious of time which presses in upon me… He who has leisure thereby disposes of boundless time; he lives in the fulness of time, be he active or at rest.” These striking words were written by Friedrich Junger in 1939. He goes on, “The technological organization of work no longer permits leisure; it grants to the tired laborer only the meager measure of vacation and spare time that is absolutely necessary to maintain his efficiency.”
In Junger’s sights is a shift so deep that once it happens it escapes our notice since we have little or no direct experience of anything else. I am inclined to accept his assertion of our impoverished sense of time for two main reasons. First, it squares with a widely held perception that no matter what we do, we just don’t have enough time. And second, from accounts of bygone days, this has not always been the case.
Junger distinguishes spare time and truly free time. Sure, people have time set aside as ‘spare’; but as hinted at in the name, this is extra or leftover time that is a kind of escape from the dominant and determinative time which is anything but ‘boundless’ or ‘full.’ Such spare time is very much of a piece with our non-leisure time. We measure, count, and perhaps even dread its passing and so any experience of boundlessness eludes us.
One of the main features of our current experience, or practice, of time is that we always feel its scarcity, and so we are consistently ‘hungry for time.’ But if Junger has rightly perceived our situation, the heart of the problem is that we lack the kind of time (called ‘leisure’ by the philosophers) that would really fulfill the hunger. And so, we live with a constant sense of shortage and lack rather than plenitude.
One might ask: but isn’t this normal? I would distinguish between normal in the sense that it usually happens versus in the sense that it should be expected. Clearly, it is now normal in the first sense. But grounded in the ancient notion of leisure, Junger, Josef Pieper, and other wise commentators of our age roundly deny it is ‘normal’ in the latter sense. Yes, some scarcity of time is part of the human experience. But it certainly need not and should not be the dominant experience of time, though that is what it has become.
So, what does this have to do with Thanksgiving? As Pieper points out, festivity is a central form of leisure in human life. In view of this, I will make what might be a controversial assertion. The transformation of how we do Thanksgiving in the last generation or so is a significant sign of the malady Junger addresses.
On the other hand, Thanksgiving done well can and should offer an experience—especially to the young!—of full, rich time. But perhaps without noticing, many of us have participated in a brave new Thanksgiving, one in which the fulness of enduring things is squeezed out and the press of the passing comes in.
Shopping, for instance, is not an exercise in fulness. As Wendell Berry and Christopher Lasch have pointed out, the fact that we turn to shopping as recreation is a sign of a loss of real leisure. I know this can be a sensitive topic, and this could seem unfairly ‘judgmental’ of shoppers. I suggest a different read. To point to the possibility of something greater—indeed something that is not just greater but is demanded and so needed by the human heart—is not to insult those who shop. It is to call men and women back to themselves.
The situation with sports-viewing is analogous. It might seem that watching sports is not appreciated by the philosopher-types who point out that it, like shopping, is not an exercise of real leisure. Again, I suggest a good approach is to consider that the problem with sports-viewing, as with shopping, is most in what it replaces.
If one thing has become clear in this challenging age, it is that true free time comes to those who prioritize and so cultivate it. Rich leisure activities, long recognized as the cornerstone of a fully human life, bring a deep stability to the realm of change and an aspect of eternity into time.
It goes without saying that there are times for shopping and for watching sports. But we need to recognize that today, what should be special (even ‘sacred’) spaces and times have been incrementally minimized, undermined, or altogether removed. Our communal autopilot continues to drive down this path. Here we need but think of Sundays; or dinner time; or family singing time; or storytelling; or prayer time. Or Thanksgiving.
The recovery of truly ‘free time’ is a serious undertaking—one calling for an intentional arranging of times and contexts that prioritizes activities that were once normal in both senses enunciated above. It makes sense to begin with a day that was originally set aside for such activities. This Thanksgiving, we might start with really taking time to give thanks together and to praise the Lord. We might play some sport rather than watch professionals doing so. Or, we can tell stories, read a classic story or essay aloud, play a parlor game, or go for a walk together.
These are activities that uniquely bring us together. In them, we enter a higher dimension in which people and the things that matter most come to the fore; and the passing of time, at least for a spell, takes a back seat.
It might be that in our lifetime such activities and times will require a certain arranging—especially by parents—and so never be quite spontaneous for us. But we are responding to the situation as we find it. And what a gift—what an incomparable gift it will be for our children, or our grandchildren, if we give them even a taste of truly free time, with its fulness and its consequent joy.
Perhaps due to our efforts now, one future Thanksgiving Day, a child will run up to us with a spontaneity we’ve never known and say, “Grandpa, Grandpa! Tell us a story of when you were young!” And holding back our tears, we will spend some moments together, where all scarcity and the passage of time are very far away. ~ ~ ~
THIS PIECE was first posted this morning at the Institute for Family Studies blog.
TODAY’S NEW PODCAST IS ON SINGING–a key aspect of leisure! SINGING IN THE HOME: IS IT ESSENTIAL? Join Sofia and me in discussing this very practical issue that closely touches daily life in the home! ALSO: Sofia has made available AUDIO RESOURCES to get you started singing in your home! Check out and share our other PODCASTS too.
ALSO 5 CONCRETE TIPS FOR THANKSGIVING:
Husband, father, and professor of Philosophy. LifeCraft springs from one conviction: there is an ancient wisdom about how to live the good life in our homes, with our families; and it is worth our time to hearken to it. Let’s rediscover it together. Learn more.
Wonderful article, and it applies to anything that takes us away from substantive human interaction. Even though I was a supervisor for many years, I purposely gave up multi-tasking about halfway through that stage of my career. I focused on the task at hand (usually triaged), or the person at hand. The result was that everything still was handled, and each person got my full attention for whatever time was needed. It carried over into my home life which also benefited from it.
Thanks for sharing that word of wisdom, Bob.
Great article! I am particularly interested in the quote, “I have time when I am not conscious of time which presses in upon me…”. I would like to see more reflection on that aspect. How do we free ourselves of that consciousness in terms of the time we give to leisure activities? Planning spontaneity?
I am inclined to think that one manifestation of this the opposite is the commonly felt NEED to attend both sides of the family on all holidays. Maybe it isn’t as common as I think, though. But in any case, it speaks to me of a desire connection with family, to the neglect of deeper connection with the family. How can I avoid being “conscious of time which presses in upon me” when I’m spending a couple hours with one side of the family, packing up the kids, and driving an hour to spend a couple hours with the other side?
This gets to a bigger issue with schedules in general: What role does avoiding a “packed schedule” have in cultivating true leisure?
Mark John, You ask great questions here. I am very interested to keep thinking about this. For sure, trying to do too much is a significant issue; yet of course there is more to it. Central to what I’m learning from reading Junger is that we need to cultivate a different approach to time in general; this better approach, I think, is at least in part characterized by a certain humility and sense of limitation. This means, among other things, that we recognize that all time is a gift, and we don’t fall prey to an immature need to ‘maximize’ everything with we do. There are hard notions here to sort out! (And I’m going to keep working on it!)
Facebook “Friends”? No thanks. A live visit, a phone call, FaceTime, even a hand written note of Thanks all harken to a time long ago.
I’m happy to daily make the effort to continue staying in touch with people in meaningful ways.
May your good efforts be blessed!
Thanks
What a beautiful and helpful reflection. Thank you, dear John, for this inspiring piece. Can you tell us more about Friedrich Junger? I, too, really appreciate his words, but am unfamiliar with him.
As I am going through chemo treatments (great prognosis; no worries), I feel I’ve been given a huge gift of time. It’s as if from childhood I (and perhaps others) need permission to “take time off.” I already have the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom whose children are grown, so my time is much my own, and yet how curious that only when the doctors insist upon rest do I allow myself to really be at home.
Much food for thought, and I’m so grateful for your insights. Lots to chew on!
God bless all the Cuddebacks and your readers. May St. Francis Xavier and St. Therese continue to bless you in your missionary efforts! You will convert us yet – don’t give up!
Dear Suzie! Thank you for these beautiful words. First of all prayers and all best wishes in your ongoing journey!
Friedrich Georg Juenger, brother of the more famous Ernst Juenger, wrote a book the English title of which is The Failure of Technology: Perfection without Purpose. It is a remarkable, and difficult, philosophical critique of the advance of technology, focusing on automation. A major theme is that of ‘dead time’ versus ‘living time,’ and he claims, among other things, that our obsession with time-keeping and time-pieces is a sign of our being caught in the trap of ‘dead time’–of which we always experience a shortage. Much to ponder here. But I highly recommend the book, though again it is far from a quick read! I intend to continue reflecting on it.
Thank you, Suzie, for your amazing and joyful witness. Please keep praying to our heavenly friends for all of us!