So completely normative is the notion of clock-time that our sleeping, waking and working schedules are dictated entirely by the clock. Time becomes measurable, finite; but time cannot be extended.
Two hours remains two hours in clock-time. If we need more time, we need to extend the deadline to complete our task. Deadlines may be stretched, but not time...
There are oppressive aspects of space-time compression. But other kinds of time coexist with clock-time. Some examples are the notions of Indian standard time, rural time and the ritual calendar that is related to the cycles of the moon, not the sun. All three are a counterpoint to clock-time and its double, the Gregorian calendar.
We can consciously cultivate practices that bring us in touch with other kinds of temporality. Why is it that we find sitting in a garden or at the seashore so inherently relaxing? Why does our sense of urgency soften and gradually diminish without much effort on our part? Nature is always only in the present moment. It exists so completely in, as, and for itself that it naturally exists beyond clock-time. Observe a tree develop from sapling to full girth. Although the clock and the calendar can be utilised to keep a record of the tree's growth, they are inadequate for a proper appreciation of its journey. Indeed, it could be argued that one reason why clock-time appears to cease, or at least lose its grip on our consciousness when we are out in nature, is that it is simply insufficient to measure the rhythms of nature.
The present moment is one that is experienced without regard to either past or future, that is to say, a moment experienced in its fullness. Most often, we thread each moment into a chain of moments, those that precede it and those that follow it. Each moment takes shape and meaning relative to all that has gone before it and all that we predict or hope will follow. The present moment is merely a name for a moment so consciously experienced that both past and future dissolve into what is often called the Now. When we are in the Now, time completely collapses.
One of the purposes of meditation is precisely to cultivate one's ability to consciously be in the present moment, without taking flight into the future or seeking shelter in the past.
As the reference to meditation indicates, it is not only outside of ourselves that we experience a temporality that disrupts the normative status of clock-time. Our own bodies, if we were to attend to them properly, can also serve to illustrate this. We will notice the small and not-so-small punishments that we mete out to our bodies in order to be disciplined by time: our forsaking sleep and nutrition, our becoming storehouses of stress, our pushing bodily limits by means of coffee, cigarettes and other stimulants.
If, however, we refuse these mechanisms of submission to clock-time and insist that the workday be organised according to the rhythms of the body, the hours we work and the conditions in which we work will be radically different. For then, the natural ebb and flow of energy will be integral to the social organisation of work and life. Work, indeed life activity more generally, will appropriately honour three qualities; activity (rajas), inertia (tamas) and dynamic stillness (sattva). The pace and texture of life will no longer be determined by mechanistic time.