(Lula Lake on Lookout Mountain, Georgia – the site of our weekend hiking)
Lately I’ve been hearing and reading a lot about time.
“You see, I decided long ago to value time over money, because you can always make more money.” – Tim Kreider, ‘We Learn Nothing’
“Time is the only true possession and we are all rich in it by biological inheritance.” – Rolf Potts, ‘Vagabonding’
Maybe it’s the books I’m reading. Maybe it’s the whole ‘getting ready to go backpack the world’ thing. Maybe it’s the fact that I turn 25 on Wednesday, the new oldest-I’ve-ever-been and the age I’ve always associated with adulthood. Maybe it’s a natural subject of thought, given my recent examinations of simplicity.
Everyone I know is having babies and buying houses and getting promotions in their grownup jobs. I’m over here giving my stuff away, practicing packing in my backpack, and wondering how many manuscripts I can complete the rough draft of before I board a plane. The different choices I’ve chosen to make and the strange path I’ve taken has been further highlighted with every baby shower invitation and question of, “So what are you going to do when S graduates next month?”
Our lives are made up of time, of trickling moments and rushing scenes. We segment our time into years, months, weeks, hours, seconds, to help us understand and track our time. Every bit that goes by is the essence of our very existence.
What do you do with your time? Is it what you want your life to be made of? Is your collection of memories the treasure trove worthy of your legacy?
There are too many people concerned with doing well by a certain standard rather than pursuing a well-lived existence. I, for one, am disenchanted with the ‘normal’ pace of life. As Tim Ferriss says, I think we don’t have a time management problem but a priority management problem. Your priorities are made obvious by what you spend your time on.
What do you do with your time? Is it worth it?