“Inner peace isn’t something we choose once, it’s something we choose a thousand times every day.”
~Jill Bolte Taylor
My Grandfather, William Pursell, just turned 105 in February. He was born in 1907, one hundred years after my first son Dylan, who was born in 2007. I find that astounding, and I treasure a picture of Dylan sitting on Grandpa Bill’s lap; two living relatives, born exactly 100 years apart. Amazing. I have never in my wildest dreams thought I might live to 105, and I don’t think Grandpa Bill did either, but somehow the years keep rolling by, and every February he’s still around to blow out the candles on his birthday cake. Incredible.
Imagine the things he has seen in his lifetime: the advent of automobiles and airplanes, WWI and WWII, The Great Depression, Prohibition, women’s right to vote, the end of segregation, the moon landing, the end of communism, the beginning of a new millennium, the internet and the dawn of the information age. Phenomenal. It wouldn’t be hard to argue that he has lived during the most amazing 100 years on Planet Earth, and there’s no guarantee that there will ever be another 100 years like it. Every year around Grandpa Bill’s birthday I have to stop and reflect, and what it makes me think about most is the value of time.
It would be easy to look at him and start thinking that we have all the time in the world, but for every Grandpa Bill there are lots of examples that life doesn’t go on forever. We all know this to be true so I will spare you any depressing illustrations.
The question is, why do we live like we have unlimited time when we have no idea how much time we really have? I know it’s important to work and plan for the future, but don’t we put too much emphasis on the future and not nearly enough on the present moment? Doesn’t it seem like we spend the bulk of our lives preparing for retirement, and when it gets here we don’t know what to do with ourselves? We convince ourselves that we are working for tomorrow, and but aren’t we forgetting to live right now? We’ve all heard these sentiments before, but what kind of value do we actually put on time? Do we value it enough?
Approximately one third of every day you sleep. Therefore, one third of your entire your life is spent sleeping. (Grandpa Bill has been asleep for almost as long as I’ve been alive!) While we shouldn’t consider sleep “wasted time,” obviously we have little or no choice in how we spend it. That leaves us with the other two thirds of our lives. The next third is spent working and/or going to school, and we usually view this time as something we have more control over than sleep—but not complete control. Most Americans treat this time as something they must do for survival—to pay the bills, to make ends meet, put food on the table, etc--and whether it’s enjoyable or not is of little consequence. It becomes our cross to bear, our personal sacrifice, and struggling through it week to week becomes part of our identities. “Thank God It’s Friday!” is our battle cry, until we wake up Monday morning and the process repeats itself. Sound familiar?
The final third of our lives is generally considered our “free time.” This is the time that we have the most freedom and control over to do whatever we please; though many would argue that our “free time” is anything but. There are kids to raise, errands to run, chores to do, and all kinds of other things that require our attention. It’s not hard to feel like you are living your entire life for a few fleeting moments of quiet time on the weekend, or perhaps two measly weeks of summer vacation. But remember something: you chose it, no one else chose it for you, and if you don’t like it—you can always change it. Outside factors might have influenced your decisions, but ultimately they are still your decisions.
If you spend one third of your life asleep and then choose to spend one third working at a job that you can’t stand, chances are you’re going to spend the final third feeling a little lost, frustrated, and unfulfilled. I think that’s much too high a price to pay for your time—which is really your life. Everyone deserves to do something they are passionate about. We are all born with unique interests, talents and gifts—doesn’t it make sense that we should use them at their full capacity? What better way to maximize your time and your life; and to insure that you make your greatest contribution during your short stay here on planet Earth? I’ve always thought that if your occupation wasn’t something you’re completely passionate about, it should at least afford you the opportunity to do something that you LOVE to do—and do it often. If your job is the thing that you love to do, that’s even better.
I know what you’re thinking. “Not everyone can do what they love to do because the world doesn’t work like that!” Do you really think that pursuing your passion would somehow disrupt the delicate balance of this so-called perfect world we live in? Personally, I think the world would work much better if more people did what they love to do. To use a sports analogy, I think we have a lot of quarterbacks out there who have settled on being water boys because they want security. The irony is that the only true security in life is doing what you love to do. If this past economic downturn doesn’t convince of that then nothing will. There’s no job, company, industry, or boss that can guarantee you job security for the rest of your life. Committing to doing something that you love to do is the ultimate security, because even when times are tough, they’re not that tough.
When you wake up in the morning with a sense of dread because you hate your job and the people that work there, life becomes a never-ending struggle to “make it through the day.” When you find yourself in this pattern you aren’t really living, you’re just surviving, and most of your mental energy is spent on figuring out how to eek by—financially, emotionally, and even spiritually. When you’re excited to wake up in the morning because you’re doing what you’re passionate about a whole new world unfolds, and it maximizes your free time, your work time, and even your sleep time, because all three will be much more enjoyable. As Viktor Frankl pointed out, mankind has an intuitive search for meaning in our lives, and doing something that we love to do gives us meaning, value, and purpose.
If you believe that you’re somehow trapped in your job and can’t get out (which most of the time isn’t true, it just seems like a scary proposition to leave), then it is up to you to change the way you view your job. Every job provides a service, and you are compensated for that service according to its value. Therefore, you need to stop viewing your job as an albatross around your neck, and start focusing on the value that it provides to other human beings. When you see it as service, and not as slavery, it might just give you the purpose that you’ve been longing for. As Wayne Dyer says, “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” Learning to love your job could be as simple as a change in perspective. Think of your job as your own unique contribution and it might just inject some of the passion that’s been missing from your life.
But valuing your time doesn’t just mean doing something you’re passionate about.
It also means enjoying the present moment—or, “the now.” I’ve always been one of those people that is slightly obsessed with the future, but I’ve learned that this robs me of my valuable time. Life can only be lived in the present moment, it can’t be lived in the future or the past, so it’s important to be able to bring yourself into “the now,” even if you have to remind yourself several times a day. This has become my practice, and while it started off as a struggle, I now find it to be a labor of love. Taking three deep breaths, clearing my mind, and focusing on gratitude brings me into the present moment—the only place where life can really be lived.
Other people dwell in the past, and worse yet they tend to dwell on their mistakes, heartaches, and regrets. I feel fortunate not to languish in the past (mostly since I have a mental library of things I could dwell on) because I’ve been able to let most of that go. My work consists of trying not to live in the future, and enjoying each moment as it comes. This doesn’t mean that we don’t have hopes and dreams, or that we don’t set goals. But instead of making the future your main focus, and having the present moment in your peripheral vision—make the present moment your main focus, and keep the future in your periphery. For me, that’s made all the difference; though it’s always a work in progress, and requires my daily attention. As for the past, I see it as having only two useful purposes: to learn from or to remember fondly. Other than that, let it go.
“To end the misery that has afflicted the human condition for thousands of years, you have to start with yourself and take responsibility for you inner state at any given moment. That means NOW.”
~Eckhart Tolle
I’ve had a few epiphanies (or “moments of clarity,” as my AA friends say) during my lifetime, but here is one I had fairly recently on the value of time: I was pushing my then three-year-old son Dylan on a swing at the playground. The weather was warm, the birds were singing, the sky was clear blue and the sun was shining. While I was pushing him and listening to him laugh, my mind drifted off to all of the things that I had to get done that week: calls I had to make, emails I had to send, contracts I had to sign and events I had to get done. Then I asked myself a simple question. “Why do I have to do all of these things?” The answer was simple: So I could spend some precious time with my son, sharing priceless life moments--like pushing him on a swing. Is there anything more important than pushing your child on a swing? I was missing one of the great pleasures of being alive by concerning myself with the petty details of the day.
Another inspiration for this blog is my newborn son Maddox, who is just shy of four weeks old. Truthfully, all of my blogs are for both of my sons so that they have some insight into their old man’s thoughts long after I’m gone. I wish some of my ancestors had blogs so that I had access to what they were thinking at the time, so I view this as my own literary time capsule. Whether future generations of Tieffs conclude that I was off my rocker will be completely up to them. So here’s to 105- year-old Grandpa Bill and 4 week old Maddox--and all of the rest of us in between. You can’t put a value on time because there’s no telling how much you have. Spending the time you have as richly as possible is always the wisest investment. I’ve never met anyone who regretted doing something they loved, or spending time with their loved ones. When it comes to time, there’s simply no way to get more bang for your buck, no matter how much time you have left.
