Completely unaware—we passed through the Mañana Time Portal
We rolled into Santa Fe, aka – “The City Different” one year ago today, in our orange (excuse me, Monarch) Rogue filled to the brim with our essential stuff. Thule on top and our dog, Brodie, commanding the mission from The Bridge (aka – the back seat).
Full of anticipation and wonder…
After six days and two thousand miles, we had finally reached our new home in the magical Southwest and “The City Different.”
The past year has been full of adventure and more than a few bumps in the road. It turns out there are a lot of bumpy roads out here. And I mean that both metaphorically and literally.
New Mexico makes state number five for me to call home and state number six for Lanette. And Santa Fe is city number eight for me and city number thirteen for Lanette.
Citing those numbers is mostly for amusement and to say we’ve both had a lot of experience settling into new places to call home.
This one has been different in a couple of ways.
Two skips in my LP that cause me to repeat myself over and over are 1) disruptions keep bumping into my rhythm, and 2) I continue to be convinced with each new milestone we’re finally over the hump.
Back in Virginia, I had struck a certain rhythm to my days. Especially during the week while working from home. I had established my morning routine like all good overachievers. And the rest of the day followed suit. It worked for me.
I had time-blocked my schedule to near perfection. Okay, okay, it wasn’t anywhere near perfection. More accurately, I knew what to do when, and I could count on being able to do it at the prescribed time.
And being holed up during COVID burned that routine in even deeper.
Any attempt at composing a rhythm here in Santa Fe has met with some form of resistance. Out here they call it mañana time. Which is a lot like island time—that’s the best way I’ve found to explain it. Mañana means tomorrow. And mañana time doesn’t mean tomorrow, it means ‘an unspecified future time.’ Go ahead, it’s right here in the dictionary.
So, my every attempt at finding a new rhythm has failed.
At least in my mind. Maybe I’m supposed to settle into my own version of mañana time? Maybe the kind of rhythm I’m seeking isn’t a thing out here? Life gets done and clocks tick to a different beat on mañana time.
I’m beginning to come to terms with the realization this is one of those, ‘When in Rome…’ things. Note to self: Finding a rhythm to your days is not a thing while on mañana time.
Life seems to insist on its own pace in New Mexico. And you know what, I’m realizing that’s one of the big reasons we love it here so much. Maybe it just takes a little more mañana time to let the big city life wear off?
Sounds kind of untucked, doesn’t it?
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