Tag: priorities

Chasing Time

Age ain’t nothin’ but a number.

I’ve said this dozens of times before, because I know it to be true.

Sure, there are some physiological changes that go on at certain points in our life, and there are certain items we can only buy if we’re of a certain age. But all too often, the number of years we’ve been on the planet has less to do with our place in this world than we think.

Of course, we collectively bungle this truth all too often. That’s why we splurge on the bright orange sports car in response to our “mid-life crisis.” And it’s why we throw ourselves lavish parties for a milestone birthday.

There’s an expectation that the number we’re associated with should impact the way we live our lives. It’s the expectation that leads us to think “Now that I’m 55, I need to become a different person,” and then either accept or rebel against that statement.

This is understandable. After all, our society emphasizes the importance of age on a foundational level. It’s one of the reasons we go to school with kids our age. It’s one of the reasons why we must wait until we’re old enough to be able to vote, drink or rent a car. It’s one of the reasons why amazed by the 24-year-old in upper management, yet look with scorn at the 22-year-old with two kids.

In short, we act as if our society is a meritocracy, with age as its currency. This is why we expend so much effort chasing time — celebrating the passing of the years while letting that occurrence impact our behavior.

If only we could open our eyes.

For the truth is, it’s not how long we live that matters. It’s how we live that does.

How responsible we are. How we treat others. How we carry ourselves. We have an obligation to keep these consistent — and consistently positive.

This obligation remains with us, whether we’re 8 or 80. And our adherence to it can help determine our legacy long after we pass on.

I’ve taken this mantra to heart for several years. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t care much about my birthday (aside from showing gratitude to well-wishers), and why I refuse to let my age dictate my destiny. It’s one of the reasons why I evaluate those around me by their thoughts and actions, rather than their age. And it’s one of the reasons why I always try and act righteously and responsibly.

This is a much more productive and open-minded way to make it through life than worrying about how long we’ve been on the planet. And a productive, open-minded approach is much needed in a time when our society seems more distrustful and divided than ever.

Let’s break down one of these worthless barriers omnipresent in our society. Let’s stop chasing time and start focusing on life.

Taking Stock

Why do we spread our focus so thin?

It’s a question we don’t often ponder. But maybe we should.

I know that personally, I’ve overloaded myself on insignificant items of interest in recent years. I’ve been determined to catch every episode of every TV show I liked, watch every game my favorite teams play, read every article my favorite Internet marketing publications ever put on the web.

It hasn’t been FOMO driving this pattern — I’ve made my feelings clear on that — but rather, an all or nothing mentality. In essence, I’ve given myself an ultimatum: “Either I will take in all I can consume of a subject, or I will take in none of it.”

All too often, I’ve taken the first option.

Now this was all well and good at first — this immersion demonstrated a consistent dedication to the subjects I cared about, one that would lead to benefits in either my career or well-being (yes, I know I bashed leisure time once, but it can still have therapeutic benefits).

But over time, this dedication has become a burden. There are only so many hours in a week, and I’ve found myself planning mine around factors out of my control, such as the schedule of a pro sports team or the article count of an online publisher.

The more I talk about this, the more ridiculous it sounds. But much like a train, it’s hard to stop this pattern once it gets rolling.

Or at least it has been until recently.

***

For various reasons, I’ve shaken things up in recent months. Although I’m generally averse to change, I’ve swallowed my pride and sacrificed some of my carefully crafted weekly routine in order to better myself professionally.

With these changes in motion, I’ve found myself with far less free time than I once did. As a result, I’ve been spending less time watching sports, keeping track of every show or reading material that may or may not be interesting.

But it goes much further than that. I’ve focused precious little time on fantasy football, and I’ve been wasting less energy on pointless exchanges with friends through text messages or social media.

I’ve given up a lot of things I once enjoyed. And you know what? It feels liberating.

You see, I’ve taken stock of my life. The time squeeze I’ve found myself in has forced me to subconsciously evaluate what truly matters to me.

And what does truly matter to me? Only a finite list of things: maintaining my relationships with those closest to me, writing articles like this one, cooking good food, exercising, spending quiet moments outdoors, advancing my career — and yes, occasionally watching football on fall weekends.

Renewing my focus in these pursuits, and these pursuits alone, is liberating. I have control over my destiny — not the calendar or some TV programming executive somewhere. And whatever I choose to devote myself to in a specific moment receives my full dedication, attention and passion. It’s a win-win.

***

This model represents how it should be, but seldom how it is.

Whether it’s our own competitiveness, FOMO or a drive to lay claim to watercooler conversation, we find reasons to worry about too many things that are far too insignificant in the long run (fantasy football, anyone?).

We’re doing no one any favors with this behavior, yet we persist.

But we have what it takes to break the chain, to stop ourselves paper-thin. So let’s take stock of our lives, figure out what’s truly important, and then double down on that.

Our destiny is in our hands. It’s time to grasp it.

Meeting Our Needs

We all have our priorities.

If we’ve heard this line before, it most likely came gift-wrapped in a derisive tone. We can be quite the judgmental lot as a society, and when someone’s set of priorities dares to defy our expectations, we all too often find ourselves scoffing in indignation.

But what are the right priorities to set? What are the expectations that should be met?

These questions will often bring an uncomfortable silence among the self-annointed peanut gallery. After all, it’s easier to point a finger at what’s considered wrong by society than to articulate what’s considered right.

Truth is, there is a road map to these questions. It’s called Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.

Without digging too deeply into this theory (since I ain’t got a couch for you to lie on and tell me your feelings), it outlines a pyramid of needs, starting with the most basic and foundational and reaching its peak at self-actualization.

I remember vividly the day I discovered the truth behind this theory. I had just landed in Chile for a college study abroad program, and was in a private van heading with my classmates from the international airport in Santiago to Viña del Mar — the city we’d call home for the next two months or so.

Shortly after we got on the highway, the orange juice I’d downed on the plane caught up with me. After about 10 minutes of trying to soldier on, I asked the driver to pull over. He obliged at a scenic overlook, one that was conspicuously missing the type of thick roadside shrubbery those who make these types of pit stops hope to find. I ultimately had to climb a hill and wind around some barren desert plants to find a place where I could be comfortable relieving myself.

As I stood there, looking out across the Andes Mountains, I knew exactly where my priorities were. I was alone on a continent where I didn’t know a soul, en route to living quarters I knew little of. If there was a moment in my life where I was most out of my element, this would be it. But even at this moment, when nature called, I took great liberties to make sure my core needs were met. I even made sure my senses of safety, belonging and self-esteem (the middle sections of the Hierarchy of Needs pyramid) were met by making the extra effort to find a spot shielded from view to…you know.

As I returned to the van, I felt at peace. The unknown still awaited me, but the most basic level of normalcy had taken hold.

So what can we all learn from this, besides the fact that the terrain of Chile is quite rugged? Quite simply, our quibbling over our priorities in life is trivial. How we spend our time and who we spend it with is important, but the attention we give it is as overblown as the headlines in the gossip magazines in grocery store checkout aisles.

Are we fed? Are we clothed? Are we safe? Are we happy? These are the needs we must meet, the priorities we must set. For without these, we can’t function properly, let alone soar to our potential.

So the next time someone makes mention of your priorities, think of these basic needs — for both yourself and your loved ones. If these needs are met, and morality is ingrained in your actions, you’ll be off to a good start — no matter what the peanut gallery says.