Recently in Time Category

The other day I walked past my piano and thought, "There's no time to play now, I've got important things to do."

When I was in my 20s, I'd play at least four times a week. It was a great way to unwind after a stressful day or gear up for an exciting date. Without notice, my habits slowly changed, and now I sit at the keyboard once a week at best.

If I stop to think about it, I really should be prioritizing playtime as something that needs to be done as much as laundry and eating and sleeping because a talent unused is a talent lost. Also, like the gurus advise, a few minutes of meditation each day can have a powerful impact on productivity and good health. I've never been any good at clearing my rambling mind of all thoughts, so I use my piano time as an alternate form of meditation.

I need to make this one of the important things that must be done instead of viewing it as luxury to be enjoyed after all the work is complete. What cherished activity do you deny yourself these days?

I am a musician who reads sheet music. Dots and lines and foreign phrases all must be translated before a written page can become a song. The beginner may take hours, days or even weeks to do this, while I need just a few minutes (depending on the complexity). This is not because I am a genius; I have been playing for 30 years.

A beginner will slowly and carefully make sure all the details are right. What key is it in? Is it a 3-4 waltz or a 4-4 rock beat? Is that chord supposed to sound unusual? What exactly does Adagio mean? At the start, I HAD to plod through in order to figure it out.

As the lessons continued, you might say I became proficient, but mostly I got better at guessing. I now play a lot of songs, some of them well, but rarely without mistakes; and too often when I'm learning a new piece, I just guess so that I can continue on and enjoy the song..mistakes and all.

The hard truth is it would be a richer melody, and much more pleasant experience for anyone listening, if I took the time to figure out all the nuances and key changes and strange chords and tempo-marks.

And this truth applies to all things in life. How much more powerful would my computer program be if I took the time to read the instructions? How much easier would the drive be if I first took the time to figure out the best route? How much more rewarding would my marriage be if I took to the time to find out what happened in my husband's life each day?

When I first touched a computer, I read every word. When I first learned to drive, I knew exactly how to get where ever I was going. When I first met Glenn, I asked about all the details.

If I did my writing job well today, you will need only read this once to get the picture. Swiftness comes as we repeat our daily tasks, but we should not take for granted the understanding and richness that is gained when we take a moment to figure it out.

[Footnote:  Adagio means, "slow, leisurely; a slow movement."]

I am the proud owner of a shiny new Cannondale Comfort 5 bicycle.

While in the bike shop, I saw a banner that described bicycling as a solution to two of our big problems:  high gas prices and sedentary lifestyles. Unfortunately, just buying the bicycle isn't the solution. It's first necessary to get out of the car and onto the bike.

I am fortunate to live in an area where recreational, non-motorized vehicle trails exist, and more are being installed every day. Not only are these trails fun to ride, but they serve as corridors for alternative transportation. If I wanted to, I could ride from my house in the rural suburbs to the center of Philadelphia on a network of trails, many of which follow old railroad beds.

So why don't I ride instead of drive? The weather is one obvious reason, but that excuse goes away when the sun is shining and the humidity drops. I could say that I don't have time, but I'm an advocate for slowing down. If I rode instead of drove, I wouldn't need to block out time for exercise; could work a few minutes less because of the gas saved; and could take advantage of some mental downtime.

My professional appearance upon arrival is currently a valid reason because I'm out of shape, and it's still summertime. I wouldn't exactly look good sporting "helmet hair" while wearing a sweat-ringed collared shirt, but even this excuse only works for the few occasions when my appearance matters.

And like most Americans, biking is not in my daily routine. I'm out of shape as a result (which becomes another excuse) and know only how long it takes me to drive from one place to the next. I have no idea how long it takes me to ride these same distances, which makes planning difficult.

Tomorrow I must attend a 9am meeting at an office just 15 minutes from my house. The forecast is for a gorgeous day. The topic for the meeting is promoting outdoor recreation in our beautiful area. This would be a perfect opportunity to use my 24-speed bike. So again, why don't I ride instead of drive?

Safety. Yes, there are trails available, but there are places where I would need to use the roadways in spots treacherous enough that I would fear for my life. Every time I consider biking, my good intentions are shot down by fear for my own safety. 

Next time you are racing around in your car and come upon a biker, please give him or her plenty of room and courtesy. Don't think of them as someone in your way; think of them as a person who is solving two problems at once. 

And when you get frustrated with your municipal officials for spending money on recreational trails in your neighborhood, remember that these trails are infrastructure. They serve as roadways of a different kind. They are also a healthcare solution, providing motivation and framework for exercise with no gym membership required.

Are you a biker? Are you scared to ride on the roads?

After a year of parking their utility trucks on my local streets, Verizon Fios is aggressively promoted their newly installed fiber optic service.  I've been shredding their glossy mailings about once a week while laughing at the comical television ads which admittedly make Verizon competitors look like slackers. Despite the service improvements, that fact remains that I want less TV in my life, not more.

The current offer is something like a TV + internet + home phone bundle for $80-$100 month.  I cannot get an estimate of what my residence would cost until I divulge my phone number. I'm already getting a mailing a week. What's going to happen when they find out I was interested enough to request a quote? I already know that the advertised deals beat my current land line ($30/month), high speed internet ($20/month) and minimum-channel, standard cable ($20/month) bills especially when I compare my measly 22 channels to their 200, or when I factor in the speed of their fiber optic internet service.

But the point remains that I also have a closet full of board games, a stack of challenging jigsaw puzzles, a bookcase stuffed with books, and a phonebook filled with names, all sitting unplayed, unsolved, unread, and uncalled. And after a mentally long day's work, I already fight the temptation to let my brain sink into the "boob tube."  That fight is not going to get any easier with 10 times the number of tempting channels.

And maybe the $100 advertised price does beat my piecemeal utility service bills, I can only imagine the true cost once the special is over, the fees are added, and I've lost valuable time figuring out how to reconnect my old DVD player.

Do you have Verizon's fios service?  Are you happy you switched?  Why or why not? 

How do you know when you've done enough?

We're regularly told that if we are not working, moving forward, challenging ourselves, then we aren't living a full life. I don't argue that hard work is rewarded, but if that's the only message, then how do we know when we're done.

The clock can be an effective motivator.  I work most efficiently when under a deadline.  But time should not be a dictator.

There are plenty of moments in life when others are depending on me to meet their schedule. On the occasions when I need only answer to myself, I must be careful to ask the right question.  I can look at it two ways: "What do I realistically want to accomplish today?" OR "How much can I get done in the few hours I have?"

There's a big difference.  Say you are painting the outside of your entire house.  Knowing you can't get it all done in one day, you set a goal to get to the first corner -- a good stopping place that won't matter if you don't leave a wet edge.

Suppose the project takes less time than expected.  Do you keep working because the clock says so?  What happens then?  You continue past the goal, and you run out of materials because you didn't plan to paint so much in one day.  You start getting tired and agitated and things begin to go wrong. The day ends with a half-finished mess of a wall and you smack yourself for being such a poor painter.

Back up to the corner.  What if you let your goals dictate when you're finished? You decide to stop and reward yourself for a job well done.  Not only is the wall finished quicker than planned, it looks darn nice.  There's plenty of time to properly cleanup and prepare for another good day tomorrow.  Then you plop down in a comfy chair with a cold glass in hand.

Having a realistic goal is the first step.  But remember, you are in control; not the clock.  Only you can say when you're done.  Only you can make non-work a priority for your own sanity.

Who rules your house: you or your clock?

So many of us wish away the end of winter. Meanwhile, we lose out on a great opportunity to prepare for spring.

Before we know it, we'll have too much to do. The days of chopping wood will be replaced with trimming bushes, spreading mulch, mowing grass, and even painting shutters.

Spring can be a pleasant experience, a chance to take in some sunshine and get the house looking spiffy again. But if your tools aren't ready for the job, it can be a frustrating mess.

Now is the time to take advantage of that spring fever and get your tools ready for some hard work. Replace broken handles. Prepare to tune up the lawn mower. Order the worn out grill parts. Address all the things that weren't properly put away in the fall.

"Clean tools do more work with less labor." - Living the Good Life, Helen & Scott Nearing

Are you ready for spring?

In an attempt to survive and succeed, the average adult must strategically plan. Thinking ahead is sensible -- until we've gone so far that we've eliminated the wonderment of life. A good life, in my opinion, is an adventurous life.

After all, it's really no fun to "know it all". As a teen, maybe I could have guessed what Nancy Drew or one of the Hardy Boys was going to find, but I kept reading because I didn't know. How dull would the story have been if I'd read the ending first?

The sheer fascination of not knowing something defines curiosity. When we are curious, we stop and look. We ask questions. We open our minds. Without mystery, there is no curiosity and life becomes a bore.

It's the stuff that drove Lewis and Clark deep into the woods. It's what keeps the sculptor intrigued as the piece unfolds. It's what propels a child from his bed in the morning.

As clock-racing adults, we work very hard to remove this mystery from our lives. In fact, we consider it a success when all the mystery is gone. My retirement is fully planned...success. My calendar is synchronized...success. My MBA proves I'm knowledgeable...success. My vacation itinerary is properly scheduled...success.

While planning can help to calm a hectic life, it should never deaden the adventure.

Are your days over planned? Do you look at life as something to be managed or are you willing to let the story unfold?

I live in a section of the United States where snow falls in winter...sometimes.  Actually, many of the storms we get are more of an ice, snow, sleet, freezing rain and rain mixture. These storms are not picturesque illustrations of children sledding past snow-covered barns. When a storm is photo worthy, the shot must be taken quickly before the moment disappears.

We do get the occasional "Nor'easter" though. Many of my friends remember being restricted from impassable roads for three days after a 30-inch storm in 1996.  We have great memories of that event. This is why, I believe, our media embellishes every winter weather event and why the markets quickly sell out of bread, milk and eggs whenever a few inches are predicted.

We long to be snowed in. It's a chance to use those board games that otherwise gather dust in the closet. It's an excuse to make hot chocolate the old-fashioned way: with milk and chocolate. It's a cozy experience where weather actually forces time to stop the hustle - something that we humans try to do, but rarely achieve.

So when the conditions are right for an impending storm, everyone gets anxious. We complain about the media's exaggerations and everyone's fretting. I believe the anxiety is simply childhood anticipation mistaken as adult fear. Inside, we really just hope it snows like mad.

Have you seen the trailer for the movie Yes Man?  In it, Jim Carrey's character is optimistically gathering information from a public billboard filled with chances to learn things like the Korean language, how to play a guitar, and even how to get a pilot's license.

My own head spins with options, ideas, and opportunities every day. These include resources for self-improvement, paths to success and chances to have lots of fun. I can learn Italian; film, edit and publish my own movie; jump up and down at an endless string of concerts; network and hobnob with peers and mentors via the internet; learn the art of handwriting analysis; adopt a pet; write a book review; the list goes on and on. Since life gets shorter every minute, I'm compelled to try more and more.  As the guru in film declares, "You say no to life, and therefore you're not living."

But as I'm running from one thing to the next, I know in my simple mind that quality and quantity are two different matters. While it is great to have so many options at our fingertips, it's too easy to say "yes" to more than can realistically be accomplished.

How do you choose which opportunities to grasp and which to let go?  

I'm not going to get much sleep this week.  How do I know?  I looked at my calendar.

It's important to review our calendars at the beginning of each week to remind ourselves of upcoming commitments. The transition from whimsical weekend schedules to deadline-filled weekday timetables is made easier when we know where we are going. I already know my days this week will start early and end late, so I want to be careful not to commit to anything else unless absolutely necessary.

Additionally, my appointment-keeping tool is a simple one. It's a generic, spiral-bound, Staples model that lies flat when I open it and shows me a picture of my entire month.  It takes no batteries.  I don't have to synchronize it with anything.  I can erase or scratch out commitments when they change.  It's as flat as a tablet of paper and fits easily into my totebag.  It serves my needs perfectly.

What kind of calendar do you like to use?  Are you able to get a clear picture of your week ahead?  Are you going to get enough sleep this holiday season?