John's Blog

When life gets overwhelming, which behaviors stay, and which get cut?

Too often, I cut the things that make the other hours in the day more fulfilling: sleeping 8 hours, eating well, being with loved ones, walking, doing yoga, meditating,  journaling.

What if I instead saw these things as not self-care, but self-preservation? What if I held them as sacred? What if they were essential?

And too often, I keep the things that do not serve me: scrolling social media, reading the latest news headline, eating bags of M&Ms, cleaning my room again, watching TV on my phone. What if I instead considered these non-essential? Nice when I have time, but the first things to go when life gets busy.

When life gets hard, I need to ask myself: is this essential, or is this extra?

John Steinbeck in East of Eden wrote the best line about time I’ve seen to date. His character Samuel Hamilton remarks, “Lord, how the day passes! It’s like a life — so quickly when we don’t watch it and so slowly when we do.”

Observe your life, and you’ll have all the time you’ll ever need.

As part of my job, I call and talk with attorneys and their assistants all day. And I’ve observed that it’s never a good time talk. It’s never a good time to do anything.

Here are common responses to my calls.

8 AM: Called too early, not at work yet.

9 AM: At court and cannot talk.

10 AM: Discussing another matter and not available.

11 AM: Left early for lunch.

12 PM: At lunch.

1 PM: Back late from lunch.

2 PM: Took a late lunch so not back yet.

3 PM: Just stepped out, want their voicemail?

4 PM: Had to leave early for the day.

5 PM: Just left for the day.

The stars will never align for the important work to be done. There will always be unexpected traffic, unforeseen cancellations, national injustices, international tragedies, familial strife,  personal illness, and lunch. The work will not just happen. There’s never a good time.

Thus, we make time for the important things. We prioritize, set boundaries, and nurture the practice, especially when times are hard. The perfect time to start does not exist, unless we create it.

…takes time

…will not be praised in the short run

…may not be recognized in the long run

…is easily replaced by more pressing, but less important work

…involves toiling when no one is watching

…involves caring when no spotlight exists

…is proactive not reactive

…involves a vision that others don’t see

…does not involve social media

…cannot be forgotten when short-term fires arise

…is hard, difficult work

…is within our control

Never, ever, take anything for granted.

Yesterday, someone exclaimed that I’m “always trying to change people.”

This hurt since that’s the exact behavior I’ve been trying to change. Giving advice is something I like to do, but I do it more than I’d like and have consciously tried to say less. The comment cut deep because I wished I acted differently.

My reaction got me thinking about the delicate balance between change and acceptance. Yes, some behaviors don’t serve us and changing them would be good. But also, self-fulfillment requires self-acceptance. We need the wisdom to know that we already have everything we need, and that we are okay just as we are.

The balance is hard to strike. Change too much, and the change will never be enough. After all, change is never absolute since tomorrow is unknown. And acceptance is powerful, so long as we don’t conflate acceptance with cynicism, detachment, or resignation.

So I think the dance between change and acceptance needs lightness, an understanding that you’ll miss a few moves, but you’ll never stop dancing.

I used to define quality time as length of time. The more time spent with a loved one, the more I cared about them.

How misguided that was. The quality in “quality time” matters. Merriam-Webster defines quality time as the “time spent giving all of one’s attention to someone who is close.”

Far better to spend 30 minutes fully present with family than to spend 2 hours half-listening while watching YouTube. The time we take for ourselves to be present benefits everyone else. Each interaction we have leaves an imprint on the other person. What imprint do we want to leave?

This weekend, I learned about the propinquity effect, which describes the tendency for relationships to form from the physical or psychological proximity between people or things. For example, you’re more likely to be friends with someone in college if that person lived in your dorm building than if she lived across campus. The more exposure you have to a person or a thing, the more power and influence it has over you.

I learned about the propinquity effect in a lecture series on social media and smartphone use. The speaker described how a central danger with our phones is that at any given moment, our devices are within arms reach. Reach into your pocket to grab your wallet, and what might come out is your iPhone flashing a news notification. The solutions to excessive phone use are simple. Want to cut your phone addiction? Don’t keep it in your pocket. Want less screen time before bed? Leave your phone in another room before you go to sleep. What is near you, influences you.

It made me think about the things that are arms length away from me during the day. If I don’t want it to be my phone, what do I want to have high propinquity? What can I carry with me or place on my desk that would bring inspiration and joy? Maybe a pen and notebook, a photo of a loved one, or a wristband with a message that inspires me. The power my phone has over me is extraordinary. But the propinquity effect can serve me as well. I just need to think through how.