What if I don’t want to save time?

The last time, I was talking with my husband about a video he had seen on Instagram. He was explaining the content of the video, and as I listened (promise, attentively), I reflected that the video format worked better because it allowed people to move more quickly, to get to the end of the content faster, and then move on to something else.

Indeed, if we look closely at the world around us, all products promise us to save time. But upon closer reflection, what does it mean to save time? And do we really want to save time?

If you pay a certain amount, you will have more followers, all to save time. If you buy this fantastic all-in-one machine, you will save time, and you won’t have to cook anymore. If you buy this new car, everything will go faster. If you have this new high-tech watch, everything will be simpler; you won’t even need to take out your phone.

Yes, but what if I don’t want to save time? What if, in saving time, we lose a bit of who we are along the way? If, by going faster, we quickly run down the wrong road. Because saving time is also taking away the pleasure of walking slowly, of letting myself be surprised. Saving time is denying the fact that to create a community, you need heart, soul, exchanges, and time. Saving time is taking away the sweetness of hearing the onions sizzle in the pan and smelling the unfolding aromas.

I remember that when my eldest daughter was in daycare, I once picked her up in tears. Big tears that must have been going on for a while. The person in charge had declared, “But madam, you have to trust me!” To which I replied that trust is not something you distribute; it takes time. Trust is earned through small daily actions; it’s not something that you can give after one minute.

So when I hear about saving time, I think of the Little Prince who once met a pill merchant offering pills that would eliminate thirst forever. By swallowing a pill, the merchant claimed, “You save fifty-three minutes a week.” And the Little Prince’s response is always with me:

“Me,” said the Little Prince, “if I had fifty-three minutes to spend, I would walk very slowly towards a fountain…”