The Gate: For When Knowing the Time Isn’t Enough
I need to leave at 8:30.
At 8:00, I know that.
At 8:15, I still know that.
At 8:23, I definitely know that.
And at 8:27, I am somehow still doing something that has absolutely nothing to do with leaving.
Then suddenly—
Shoes. Bag. Keys. Phone.
GO.
What changed?
I didn't suddenly learn what time it was.
I didn't suddenly care more about being on time.
But at 8:27, I could feel time.
And I've become really interested in that difference.
We are feelers. Time is hard to feel.
Five minutes can feel endless when we're waiting.
Five minutes can disappear when we're absorbed in something.
The clock measures both exactly the same.
We don't experience them the same way.
Yet when someone repeatedly struggles to act on time, we often attach motivation to it.
You knew we had to leave.
I reminded you.
If this mattered to you, you'd be getting ready.
But what if knowing isn't the problem?
What if the harder part is the transition?
I think of that transition as the Gate.
HERE → GATE → THERE
HERE is whatever has me now.
THERE is where I need to be next.
And the Gate is the space between them.
I can know exactly where THERE is.
I can genuinely want to get THERE.
And sometimes I still struggle to move through the Gate.
Until urgency arrives.
At 8:27, suddenly THERE is impossible to ignore.
It got brighter.
The contrast changed.
And I moved.
What if we didn't have to wait for urgency?
I think about a lot of this through light.
Something can exist in our awareness without being bright enough to pull our attention toward it.
That's where I've started using another word:
Lodestar.
A lodestar is a star used for orientation—a light that helps us know where we're headed.
“Appointment at 9:00” gives me information.
But:
✦ IN THE CAR AT 8:30
gives me somewhere to move toward.
Now I can ask a different question.
Not:
How do I make myself try harder?
But:
Can I lower the barrier and make the destination brighter?
Maybe that means music that signals it's time to transition.
Maybe it's putting on my shoes before I need them.
Maybe it's not starting anything new for the last ten minutes.
Maybe it's having someone move with me.
Maybe it's simply making IN THE CAR AT 8:30 more visible than everything competing with it.
In chemistry, some reactions need enough energy to get over an initial barrier. Changing the conditions can lower that barrier.
I'm finding that a useful way to think about executive function, too.
Sometimes we keep adding energy:
More reminders. More pressure. More consequences. More urgency.
Maybe sometimes we should change the conditions instead.
Because perhaps getting better at time isn't only about watching the clock.
Maybe it's about lowering the barrier—and making where we're going bright enough to feel.
