Parsley Sage Rosemary
Spending our currency
Money is something I’ve never been that comfortable discussing. I think it’s because it usually amounts to trivial comparisons of net worth, and conversations full of greed. There is a currency much more powerful, but so dreadfully wasted, even more so than money. TIME. Time is really the most precious currency we’ll ever spend.
Money comes and goes, but the hand of the clock can’t be reversed. We’re in a constant decisional state regarding our next move. Of course, it involves some structured blocks such as the time that we dedicate to careers, sleep, and finding food. Even those things can vary in the amount of time we allow for them, but they’re biggies that we can’t avoid. We can’t deny that we have responsibilities, but most of them result from other choices we’ve made, the level of importance we’ve awarded certain things, or a perceived sense of urgency. The keyword here is perceived.
The last one is dangerous and if we’re not cautious and aware, it can and will rob you of the minutes, hours, and days that you cannot afford. Clever marketing has us believing everything is an emergency. Just look at those flashing ads on your phone appearing in the center of the article you’re trying to read. Has anyone been successful in finding and pressing the little “x” on those things? We joke about “doom scrolling” and we will spend hours loading our digital shopping carts, abandoning them for a day or so, only to return and perpetuate the cycle. It’s like a video game without an objective, and when reality reels us back in we’re left with nothing more than we started with. In fact, we’ve spent our most valuable currency. Smartphones are sirens that temp us into a digital sea of swells that will attempt to swallow us. Awareness is the life raft that will carry us back to shore, but here’s the kicker…you have to board the boat first.
Remaining focused is no easy feat in a world saturated with interruption. I will fully admit that some days I feel like a minnow swimming in a lake stocked full of walleye, searching for some weeds to conceal my existence. Also, my tail was nibbled off in an encounter with a perch, so there’s that. In many ways, our accessibility has become frighteningly penetrable. I think we’ll soon we’ll be asked to register via email and text message just to receive a code for public restroom access. To exit, you’ll receive a post-flush survey and follow-up communication to ensure absolutely no difference in service from your initial visit.
Our attention can get pulled in a thousand directions within the first hour of our day and our mental desks can quickly accrue piles of projects that have no business resting there. I am admittedly one of those humans that can end up with a mind like a cageless zoo if I’m not mindful about building fences. I struggle to stay on task and have had to devise and revise strategies to filter the barrage of stimuli that shows up daily like winter…and spring rain in Seattle. The umbrella has to open at the beginning of the day to deflect the risk of saturation. One strategy I’ve found helpful is to place my phone in a drawer, which usually ends in an annoying game of hide-and-seek later on. If I predict that a task will require a good chunk of time, I’ve learned to incorporate breaks. I rejected the notion of these pauses for so long, even though research highly supports the efficacy of such a strategy until I recognized that the freedom in those periods seemed to open up space for clarity and creativity. I was finding the figurative puzzle pieces a little faster.
Overcommitment can pose a threat when we are receiving communication from multiple sources. Be aware that everyone wants to access your most precious asset, which can be a means to fulfill some ulterior motive. You have to get good at saying ‘no’. I had to turn in my Supermom suit. I burned it, released the ashes into the wind, and danced around in my naked glory. Don’t worry, my blinds were shut. I came clean with the lady in the mirror about what I could realistically achieve without forfeiting both sanity and identity. We can’t do it all. We don’t need to do it all. The award for perfectionism is a mirage in the desert that will suck you drier than a Nature Valley granola bar. If we don’t value our time, neither will anyone else. Don’t be cheap! We have to determine for ourselves what is worth the cost, as well as who deserves our currency.
Overcommitment can threaten our assets in a different way. It puts us at a risk for less meaningful interaction, which robs us of the quality of our time. It’s like saving up your money to buy an expensive set of luxurious bed sheets. When you’re finally able to purchase them, you’re not going to leave them in the package. You’ll put them on and crawl into bed to enjoy the shit out of them that very first night. You’ll appreciate the quality of the fabric and probably gain some satisfaction from the hard work to earn them. Maybe you’ll sleep in longer than normal just to delight in the comfort of your investment. As someone who enjoys the company of others, I was the ‘yes’ gal, writing over the top of my responsibilities in the calendar with those of others until it became too messy and jumbled to read. The only word I could make out was anxiety. There wasn’t enough daylight to complete the to-do list and my attention would be on the clock which was ticking like a garage band in my head, drowning out the company. My luxurious linens were still in the package and tucked inside of my cheap pillowcase. Not only did this devalue my time, but also the time of my company.
When we choose to spend our time with another, we are essentially communicating that we value them and that we want to be there. You wouldn’t offer someone a dollar and hold on to the other end of it just in case you wanted it back. Just take a minute to imagine how ridiculous that would be. If we’re going to give someone the gift of our time, we should remember that they have chosen to give that same gift to us. If we’re not fully present, we’re holding the other end of the dollar, and trust me, they will undoubtedly feel the awkward tug. To fully experience the nature of the gift, we have to be willing to dedicate our attention to the moment. If we open the doors to the zoo, the monkeys will drag us off into the future or the past and the opportunity for valuable connection will be missed.
Money will come and money will go, then it will come and then go. The hand of the clock only moves in one direction. We are ultimately the gatekeepers of our minutes and must be fiercely aware of what we value and what we’re willing to leave on the table. Distractions are ubiquitous and will, without a doubt, attempt to pick our pockets until the sun begins to set. Let’s be serious, we’re not going to enjoy every damn moment, but the awareness of limited time can help us to appreciate the gift. Spend wisely, spend with intention, and do your best to enjoy the present until the clock stands still.
Thank you for spending a few of your minutes here. I appreciate y’all!