From rushed mornings to tightly timed commutes, our days often feel dictated not just by the clock—but by the subtle signals we exchange with others.
I often feel as if my entire day, from leaving home to returning at night, runs on a minute-by-minute schedule.
Mornings are practically second-by-second.
From washing my face to preparing breakfast and taking out the trash, a small lapse in efficiency can easily cost me one or two minutes.
And when I’m still half-asleep, I sometimes forget to grab the newspaper or put coffee in the machine without actually brewing it—tiny disruptions that throw things off.
Traveling is no easier.
I can write blog posts or study languages while on the move, but switching between tasks is surprisingly demanding.
Yesterday, on my way back from Sapporo, I thought two and a half hours would be plenty.
But after leisurely eating pork rice, I found myself checking in at the very last minute, barely having time to choose souvenirs.
I had completely underestimated the vastness of Hokkaido. It was my own oversight, but still—too close for comfort.
Why am I always living under such time pressure?
Most people, I suspect, feel the same.
Yesterday ends, today arrives, and tomorrow follows.
Yet navigating that cycle calmly is harder than it seems.
Is this because the concept of “time” came into existence?
Or were humans just as busy even before time was formally measured?
Coordinating our actions with others—using shared “signals”—is a uniquely human form of communication.
Perhaps what feels like being chased by time is, in truth, being chased by the subtle differences in these signals we exchange with one another.
We are busy every day because we constantly adjust ourselves to others’ schedules.
And in the end, that is probably where much of our stress comes from.
