The bells mark time

Something you notice here is the sound of the bells. They mark time wherever you go whether it be in a small town or city. In one moment it sounds to me like music. In another moment I pause, not to wonder what time it is but to mark the moment. I feel the moment, and it washes through me. The moment is gone and then a new one begins. Time feels gentle here perhaps because I am living more slowly and noticing.

Wearing a watch most of my professional life in PR, I marked time in 15-minute increments. As a decimal it was .25. My watch told time and helped me bill and manage my time. Sometimes it felt like a jewel, valuable to me, and it was always reliable. 

When I was 24, I bought a watch that I wore for more than a decade. It even accompanied me on dive trips. It was always with me and never failed. It also felt a little like a jewel, but I realize now the jewel was time.

I rarely wear a watch these days most likely because the time is on my phone. My phone is always nearby. Instead of hearing a bell ring, I hear the alarms I set for when to end and do something else. The alarm is especially helpful in counting down time before I have to go somewhere — I plot time for getting ready and out the door. At school my alarm helps me remember when to wrap up before lunch time or not to forget recess duty.

With only a week left of my stay here in Italy I am wondering about time. I wear no valuable timepiece and yet perhaps for the first time I am learning the true value of time.