Congestion of time

Finished work yesterday evening. Called uncle to see if he's going to Saaremaa, as I figured I might be late for the only bus in the evening. Luckily he said he was going just a couple of hours after the bus. He even had a free seat and plenty of space for luggage. Nice timing.

While on the way, we discussed politics (recently it's all just a big mess) and the global goals of mankind. The discussion followed on the nature of consciousness. Uncle mentioned having had a lot of dreams where he has asked questions and received deep answers.

At some point I asked the question that has been bugging me for the past few months:

• Once I've worked on something for some time, I get to a level where I have a lot of different tasks to do, many of which need to be done simultaneously. Although a meditative state can easily be achieved while deeply focused on a single task for long enough, it seems difficult to achieve while having to focus on a lot of different tasks simultaneously. It's especially difficult when the time has become so fragmented that it's impossible to properly finish any of the tasks. So far the only idea I've had is to become so efficient that I can still get away with focusing on them one by one.
• Surely yoga masters who have integrated their practices deep into their everyday life must have encountered the same issue. 
• How do yoga masters handle congestion of time (assuming that it can be called that way)?

Uncle thought for a few minutes, and said:

• Yoga masters would probably see it differently. They would contemplate about what it means to experience that.

I thanked him for his advice, as it answered the question.

He often cited "Lingvistiline mets" by Valdur Mikita, a semiotician. I thought I wouldn't have the time to read it. Though, while crossing the sea with the ferry, I did have enough time to open the book from a random page and read a few pages. It was amazing. It answered a question I had forgotten I even had:

• Why am I in Estonia where there are no pyramids, no temples or ancient ruins of any sort? There's no hidden knowledge here.

According to the book, there's a lot of hidden knowledge in the forests and bogs of Estonia. The nature has remained more-or-less untouched since the Ice Age, and some of it probably predates the Ice Age. The author proposed the idea of tasking the local shamans and witches with uncovering the hidden knowledge and building a sort of consciousness accelerator into the ancient times.

That's another potential global goal for mankind: To uncover our forgotten past.