Changing with the weather

Mongolians are very friendly people and more relaxed than others when it comes to time and schedules. While we—or at least I—who came from the city tried to work according to a schedule, the Mongolians seemed less concerned about it. We said we would have a welcome party at 9 p.m., but 9:10 came, and no one had arrived. The minutes went by, and it was 9:30 when we finally started the party.

At first, I thought Mongolians were less time-conscious because Mongolia is a developing country, but later realized that lack of development may not be the only reason they don’t pay as much attention to the clock. It could also be the unpredictability of Mongolia’s weather. In the morning, it may be sunny and hot, and then, in the afternoon, rain.

In the morning, it may be sunny and hot, and then ...

in the afternoon, rain.

One day, we visited the ancient capital of Mongolia. It was a fine morning, but dark clouds were looming in the distance.

Erdenezuu, the first Buddhist monastery in Mongolia,
was built in 1586 on the site of the country’s ancient,
13th-century capital.

By the time we finished our lunch and returned to the car to head back to our ger (traditional Mongolian tent), the weather was stormy, and our plan to ride horses and walk on the sand dunes of Little Gobi was postponed because of the wind and rain. (Tourists visit Little Gobi because of its sand dunes, which resemble those of Mongolia’s Gobi Desert.) It became quite cold in the night for the same reason. So, if the weather keeps changing, maybe we shouldn’t blame Mongolians' flexibility with regard to schedules on the culture.

As I spend time here in the camp and with some of the local people, I am starting to understand the meaning of Mongolian time. What is the hurry? And what is a schedule? In a world where nature speaks with a louder voice, what does it matter if we spend a few more minutes, a few more hours doing other things, improvising our plans as we go along? Maybe, because of the weather, there will be an opportunity for an unplanned visit from a friend or guest.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

How to choose?

You and I have 24 hours a day. Each of us gets the same—no more and no less. I can spend portions of my time grading assignments and writing manuscripts, or I can go and join my extended family for lunch or dinner. I can use the time to write up reports and prepare abstracts for conferences, or I can have a tea party with two colleagues celebrating their birthdays or go to movies. So what do I do? And how do I choose?

If I choose to relax and enjoy my time with friends and family, I come home feeling guilty that I am behind at work—that I haven’t tried my best to perform, to do my best in whatever I have been trying to achieve in my professional career. If I choose to keep working during the evenings and weekends, yes, there is a sense of accomplishment, that something has been done, completed. Yet, I yearn for connection with family and reprimand myself for not looking after me. My mind and body deserve to be treated with respect. My eyes, my wrists and my back cry out for time away from the computer screen. I also feel guilty that I am not living life as it should be, but instead making work my whole life. I am in a Catch-22 situation. Are you?

Modern men and women who live in cities lead very busy lives. We go about our business as if we are the centre of things that are about to happen. Our behavior suggests that the world cannot turn without us. Of course, we know it isn’t true. But we multitask like crazy, nonetheless.

This struggle to spend our time wisely—when will we find a way to resolve the dilemmas presented to us? Will we always feel this way until we retire? And what will life in retirement be like?

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.