How do I manage my time?

Tuesday. April 23, 2024 - 5 mins

We will always want more. The possibility of suffering is infinite. Yet, this concept escapes us when it comes to how we manage our time. We have infinite wants and finite time. Procrastination and time-management issues stem from a denial of reality—the reality that we will never accomplish everything we want to do. This is not a reflection of my ability to accomplish tasks, but, rather, a reflection of how fickle our wants are.

You will die, still having things you want to do. Even writing that statement feels abhorrent to our 21st century sensibilities. That is because the state of wanting to do things is unbearable. But why does it have to be?

No matter how many times I fold the laundry, the laundry still needs to be folded every Sunday. I will never be “on top” of laundry, because that is not the nature of laundry, nor life. Sunday is not an inherent feature of the universe. It has been shaped by religious figures, industrialists, and labor unions. This is not to say that long-term goals are bad, but they aren’t inherent features of the universe. They may be inherent features of your universe—a universe where you live in constant state of tension, pinning your salvation on a future that is always out of reach.

What does this mean for your goals?

If you’re like me, you probably haven’t fully grasped time’s finitude. It’s important to understand this, because recognizing you can not do everything you will want to do, is the first step to valuing your time.

If you believe it is possible to find time for everything, you will not ask yourself if a task is the best use of your time. There is no opportunity cost to any present moment. Of course, there is. Your mother could die at any moment. Your favorite musician could be in your city touring. You could be sleeping right now.

Rather than taking responsibility for choosing what you will fail in life, we avoid choice (procrastination). Or, you try to do everything, evading the responsibility of deciding what is worth your time.

Take inventory of the past few years of your life. Is there a string of half-finished, eclectic projects? This is comfortable. You can continue to half-ass each of these projects.

It’s harrowing having to set aside each of these projects and say, “Alright, I’m going to do this one thing, step-by-step, until it’s finished.” It’s scary because it’s a confrontation with your mortality—your capacity for work is strictly finite, but the range of what you can do with that finite capacity isn’t. If you’re procrastinating on something because you’re afraid it won’t live up to its full potential, you’re right. It won’t. “Full potential” is an oxymoron.

Boredom, fear of failure, procrastination: they all force you to see that this is it. They are practices in mindfulness, actually. No wonder, we seek distractions from these fears. That stress we feel during an empty weekend is your mind worrying over a resource misallocationation problem. But, no matter how you fill that weekend, it will be a resource “misallocation.” That is the beauty of monogamous relationships, mom-and-pop restaurants that will one day shut down, and holding your child in your arms, knowing one day you will pick them up and put them down forever.

Next steps

Make two lists. First, list everything on your mind. Then, make another to-do list. Limit yourself to writing 3-5 tasks on this one, from the first list. This should be painful. Writing this essay was one of my 3 tasks. Instead of applying for another internship, I wrote this. I believe that internalizing the message of this essay through the process of writing it is more valuable than applying for an internship today. I don’t know if that’s true though. That’s what gives this choice and my time weight.

Postpone without anxiety. Get comfortable with the anxiety that comes from serializing your life projects. This starts with choosing one project at a time. But, it also includes postponing the multithreaded processes of that project, choosing to focus on the next (3-5) steps.

Limit yourself. I will not become a full-time musician. I will not live in an idyllic cabin in the middle of nowhere. There are things, I could do, but I am choosing to fail at. You can’t do everything—not because you are incapable of doing all those things—but because you can’t do them all at once. At least, not while valuing your time and wellbeing. Limits don’t need to be lifelong. After a break-up, you (probably already) limit yourself by saying you will do the bare-minimum work, and spend your free time working out.

Pay attention during your walks. I won’t give you a list of famous people who went for walks. (If you are emulating people you admire by copying their incidental habits, you are avoiding actual work.) However, next time you’re walking during your day, try to focus on the details. Hear the noises you take for granted, notice the flowers that have bloomed for spring, smell the distinct smell that makes this place your place. This has two effects:

1. Novelty makes time pass slower. Presence enables you to see wha’s novel.
2. Nostalgia is delayed gratitude. Practice that gratitude now.

Accept it

No matter how unbearable the present moment might seem, you will one day reminisce about how great you had it and complain about how bad you have it now. This will repeat until you die. Accept that discomfort will always exist, and you are no longer controlled by discomfort. Then, instead of hedging your peace of mind in perpetuity, you can find it now, forever.