Time has always been a difficult thing for me to grasp, it gives structure to our lives in a way that is incomparable with any other human invention. One thing in particular stood out to me in this essay, that if you slow down a bit you'll realize you've got all the time you need. I'm a career procrastinator and I believe wholeheartedly with this statement, when things get down to the wire and my due date is rapidly approaching it seems all my thoughts come together, instead of three weeks of concerted effort a 5 page paper or creative work will take me an hour (assuming research is done before hand). This decisive limitation I impose on myself is the catalyst that allows my work to be completed. It is kind of like the weeks of inactivity were filled with subconscious brainstorming and rough drafts, in the longer fictional piece I've been working on the characters proceed in much the same way, they live their lives without acting on their agendas until the shits about to hit the fan and then they spring into action, mainly to avoid consequences rather than to accomplish goals.
A last note on time making beauty into the norm: I used to be an art major, I did ceramics for about seven years, some years saw drastic improvement but after the third or so I stopped trying out new forms, it was enough for me to keep making the same bottles and bowls because I experienced each in the moment and felt my skill increasing. However, everyone else saw stagnation, to them I had stopped progressing and lost my creativity. Until I read the section in this text on subjective time and time making one numb to art I hadn't realized why it was I felt each piece was unique when outwardly they looked the same.