It was Ernest Hemingway who once said, "Time is the least thing we have of." And he was right. How quickly time passes—and how often we lament this. If only we could tack an extra twenty-five or thirty years on to the usual span.
It was Ernest Hemingway who once said, "Time is the least thing we have of." And he was right. How quickly time passes—and how often we lament this. If only we could tack an extra twenty-five or thirty years on to the usual span. There is so much more we want to see, to celebrate, to do. So many places to go, so much to enjoy, to feel, to read, to talk about, to participate in, to encounter. Yet, for each of us, this thing called time is in such short supply.
Our frustration is only compounded by the numerous unimportant, dumb things that steal our minutes and siphon the significance out of our hours. You know what I mean. Stuff like getting gas or a haircut, standing in the eternal line at the DMV, doing the laundry, washing all the dishes after every meal, mowing the lawn, and a dozen other time-consuming things that have to be done but keep you from doing the things that make life so invigorating and fulfilling.
Since "time is the least thing we have of" and since there is no way we're going to escape all the stupid time-traps that accompany our earthly existence, seems to me that we're left with two choices: Either we can fuss and whine about not having enough time, or we can take the time we've got left and spend it wisely. I mean really wisely, with our priorities in the right order.
Speaking of that, what are you doing with the rest of your life? I'm talking about cultivating relationships, building memories that will help lift the load of future trials, and the deliberate pursuit of activities that will yield eternal dividends.
Do you have a family? Rather than leaving them the leftovers and crumbs and giving your job your best hours and your most creative ideas, how about rethinking the value of strengthening those ties? And while we're at it, let's not leave out necessary time for quietness, for personal reflection and refreshment.
You say you don't have time to add another week to your squirrel-cage lifestyle. Don't kid yourself. You keep blowin' and goin' like you've been doing most of your adult life, and you'll wind up mumbling to yourself in the twilight years, wondering how you could have stayed so busy yet accomplished so little.
Hey, maybe Hemingway wasn't right after all. You and I have more time than we realize . . . once we get our priority ducks in a row.
Have you ever wondered how you can stay so busy yet accomplish so little? Think seriously about how you can reorder those priorities.