Sharing Time
Share it willingly, or miss out entirely.
Just recently I got to wondering why I never felt like I was caught up on anything—projects, relationships, hobbies, jobs—the list goes on. As I pondered my situation I realized that for the past few days I’d worked from 8am to 9pm, only pausing long enough to eat meals. What this meant was that of the 15 hours I was awake each day I only had about 2 hours of unscheduled time for myself. 13:2 is not exactly an ideal ratio.
Now, normally, you might expect me to make a plug for some time-saving lifestyle hack. There are plenty of ideas out there for how to squeeze an extra few hours into each day, how to work less, or how to minimize time-expenses. Many of them are fantastic ideas, but instead of fighting the uphill battle of trying to get more time, I decided to think about how well I spend the time I have.
So, what exactly is time for myself, and what makes it more desirable? Does it need to be uninterrupted alone time? Does it need to be time void of any obligations? Does it count as “me” time if it’s spent catching up on personal emails? If I’m just playing catch-up in my personal life, is it truly recharging?
In the battle for time to ourselves, we seem to strive so desperately to create a separation between work life and personal life—but what makes the time so different? I might be tempted to believe that work time wears me out and personal time recharges me, but if that’s the case the 13:2 ratio would already have me in an early grave!
Instead, I propose something different: all time is your own. Every moment you have the option to be present, experiencing and enjoying your surroundings. If you’re stuck in an office all day, why not make it an office you love? You’re already spending time there, so why not make it quality time?
We fight our whole lives to create time for ourselves—but time doesn’t wait to be shoved into our plans.When it comes down to it, you have two options: share your time willingly, or miss out entirely.
I know what I’ll be choosing.
