Building La Cuna: On Time
I didn’t realize how much my sense of time had been shaped by screens until I started building out here. In my other work, time moved in short bursts—emails answered, deadlines met, problems solved just long enough to move on to the next one. Days filled up quickly but left very little behind.
Out here, time behaves differently. A task I thought would take an hour stretches into an afternoon. Not because I’m inefficient, but because the work keeps changing its mind. A measurement is off. The wind picks up. Heat settles in earlier than expected. The sun becomes the clock whether I want it to or not.
There were days when this frustrated me deeply. I’d look up and realize I’d “only” completed one small thing. But over time, that judgment softened. I started noticing what the day had actually held: long stretches of attention, a body tired in a clean way, a structure standing because it had been given enough care rather than rushed into place.
What I’m learning is that physical work doesn’t compress time—it gives it shape. It slows thinking just enough to make room for judgment. It ties effort to consequence. By the end of the day, time no longer feels spent or lost. It feels lived.