Clocks and sun dials and hour glasses: I don’t spend much – it would be safe to say I don’t spend any time worrying about the devices that keep track of time. I just spend my time and pray the investment has some sort of return on my investment.
I set my timer to 7 before I started writing. I am giving myself the gift of a whopping seven minutes to write a story each day in May. The return on my investment? A deepening of my skill set, an appreciation, a practice of writing stories – even my life stories type stories which are surely different than the dystopian romantic sci fi young adult stuff many others are writing.
Maybe if I throw my newly minted word “horology” into the mix it will make me more cool? Maybe that will buy me into the fiction-writing in-crowd?
I digress and that is how the investment of time gets frittered away. Yes, it gets frittered away when we start to worry about the in-crowd and the differences in how I do it rather than the value of process and how this fits within the rest of my life work.
How do you like that Tap Tapnick? How do you like that, loud construction trucks out there – you, committed to throwing me off course and attempting to drown out the sounds of the brave birds that continue to sing even tuouhg you feel compelled to continue in your work?
I’ve elected to observe my personal dance with time.
I’ve chosen to witness how I invest in this bank of 24 hours.
I’m doing so for some important reasons: discerning how to add value, meaning and curiosity into the lives of those I serve (and will serve) and also because I know I can be more productive than a legion of magical fairies when I focus my mind, heart and spirit to collaborate for the greatest good.
When I put it that way, time management turns into something soulful, remarkable and artsy. My insides flip. I’m hooked. I’m ready to make a difference.
When I recorded this piece, I missed the final paragraph which is really spot on because... the recording was telling me... I was out of time!