Month: December 2022

Losing track of time is one of those things that can either be positive or negative for us. For example, if we’re reading a book or writing a story, we want to be lost in that imaginative (or abstract) world–lose track of our physical sense of time and experience a non-physical one where events can be sped up or slowed down, frozen, or broken down into abstract and composite elements. When we’re enveloped in this non-physical experience of time, our minds are fully engaged in whatever it is we’re thinking about, imagining, and we’re fully active in the experience of our own ideas and imagination.

But losing track of time can have a negative effect when have to follow a schedule, or when we have to be somewhere at a certain time. For example, if we need to leave for work, if we need to sleep at a certain hour, catch the plane (or bus), or if we’re going to a social/family gathering or an event. Being late has bearings on our lives that can effect our employment, our friendships, our goals. In all these cases, losing track of time means that we will miss out on things that are time-dependent (i.e. things that we cannot be late to), since these tardies can snowball to being late to other things.

However, the things on our schedule depend on how many there are to do, and how much time we have to get them done. In general, the more time we have, and the less we have to do, the better, since there is more leeway in terms of taking our time and not rushing to get things done (if they can be done within a reasonable amount of time). But just because we have more time, it doesn’t necessarily mean we can lose track of it.

It also begs the question of how much time we can lose track of, and if we need a half-day or a whole day (or a weekend) to get things done, whether that be reading, writing, making art, finishing a DIY project, etc. For some, it’s more manageable to not complete these things in one session, but to spread them out throughout the week (or month or year), whereas others might need a lot of time in one or two sessions without breaking them up into smaller ones.

But for me, I find that losing track of time gets harder when there are many things to do. Sometimes I want to lose track of time when I’m reading or brainstorming, but my mind starts to wander without my noticing. All of a sudden, I’ll start thinking about the next chore/task that’s unfinished or that I have to do, whether that’s making food or doing the laundry, etc.

It was much easier to lose track of time in my youth, especially in my college years, since my imagination seemed so much more limitless and vibrant, and the things I needed to do were minimal (i.e. go to class, study for exams, etc.) compared to now. I used to read for hours on end, or until it got dark, and my mental stamina was inexhaustible. It was as if my mind and body never wanted to sleep, never wanted to rest, and my mind wanted to absorb as much knowledge as it could, and accomplish as many things as it could dream of.

Now it seems like it takes two or three times more effort to read or write in a single session than it did before. I wonder if I’m now I’m running on half-empty, or if it’s simply that I’m not as motivated or ambitious as before. Whatever the case may be, I know that I still seek those periods where I want to lose track of time, or what could be described as being in the zone, for in those periods, nothing else seemed to matter–not my worries, my bills, my to-do list–and each time, it felt like my mind was free to explore new horizons and discover a wealth of inexhaustible treasures.

One thing that makes life more fulfilling is keeping things simple. To keep things simple means we are not overburdening ourselves with the worries and stresses of the day. We are not trying to do more than what we can handle, since we might end up burning ourselves out.

When I set a small list of things to do that are manageable (within a certain time frame, of course), it’s much more fulfilling after I’ve accomplished them rather than having a larger list and fulfilling each goal and feeling like I’m burned out, since I don’t want to do anything else afterward. We all know our limits, of what we can and can’t do, and how far we can push ourselves, but sometimes this invisible pressure to do more and accomplish more whispers in our ears as if we’re not doing enough.

And if we’re not doing enough, we can’t feel a sense of accomplishment when we do accomplish our goals. In fact, we’ll end up doing a thousand things while feeling like we haven’t done one. That’s what the “you can do more” or “that’s not enough” thoughts can do to us if we let them sink in our minds.

There’s a saying that less is more, and this is true in many ways. It’s not just about the quantity of goals we accomplish but the quality in which we go about accomplishing them. The less goals we have, the more quality in terms of thoroughness and detail we can put into them, since we have more time and energy to do so. Inversely, the more goals we have, the less quality they will bear, since we will have less time and energy to invest into each one.

Keeping things simple means keeping our goals to a minimum so that we can put more time and energy into them (not to mention, actually accomplishing them). There is a tremendous pressure when we’re trying to finish things in the nick of time, and even if we do, the result is a sense of relief, one that we wouldn’t want to experience each day, since it bears a feeling of “I barely made it” rather than “that was a job well done.”

As time goes on, my drive to accomplish the goals that I had set for myself from years past has slowly faded. I had once aspired to be a painter, an artist, but it has never materialized. Routines and patterns have set in in terms of work schedule, sleep schedule, social events, etc., and at the end of the day, there is little time left to pursue them.

Of course, what we want to accomplish in life (and what can be accomplished) depends on what we define as our goals, and if they’re grand or simple. For example, are we making it our goal to win the lottery or to write a book? Are we making it a goal to be infamous or to do something that matters? Are we aiming for the statistically slim, or the doable–what’s within our means?

In hindsight, not achieving everything I had set for myself from years past has worked out. Some of the things I aspired to achieve no longer interest me. For example, I discovered other things that interested me, like literature and writing. Rather, those things that interested me in my youth mattered for me then, but not as much now, since I have a new perspective and understanding of myself and the world. I find that writing allows my thoughts and ideas to flow more naturally, whereas with painting or drawing, I’m continuously struggling to fix meticulous errors and mistakes, trying to get the proportions and lines just right.

There comes a time when we realize that we probably won’t be famous or exceedingly wealthy, but we will have what we need at the end of the day. Time limits us to what we can set out to do, and the number of the things we can accomplish. We’re ultimately faced with the task of narrowing down our dreams and goals to the bare essential, and that inevitably winds up being what is meaningful to us–what defines us.

“Not enough time” is what I say to myself when time is about to run out and I’m rushing frantically to finish something. If only I had enough time, I could get everything done, especially at a high quality that I expect of myself. But often in life, we’re racing against time, or else, trying to beat it. Time is like a light in a dark tunnel that’s fading on us, getting smaller the more we get near it. When time runs out, the tunnel is pitch-black, and we feel defeated and lost.

For some people, they get things done early, to not put themselves in a position where they’re racing against the clock. Then there are others that limit the amount of things they need to get done so that they’re not racing against the clock. And then there are those that are always racing against the clock and are barely making it or are late. “Not enough time” is a constant battle for them, and to succeed, they either have to change the way they do things (i.e. start on the project early or limit the amount they have to do), or else, extend the deadline (if they can) and hope that the extension is enough.

But anything of quality needs almost unlimited time. Time is a constraint that is built in to our lives to motivate people to finish things (i.e. so that they don’t procrastinate or take weeks for what can be done in a day or two), but sometimes that time constraint can be counterproductive. If what we need is more time and not less, the pressure to finish on time can lead to details being overlooked, shortcuts being taken, which can lead to problems later down the road. It can lead to mistakes that more time would’ve enabled us to catch and correct.

For those who only want to narrow time and to increase output, their ultimate goal is the end product, not its quality or value. Whether that end product ends up being good or bad, excellent or substandard, is irrelevant to them.

But every artist knows that time is something that must be respected, not rushed. A manuscript, once finished, needs to be set aside for weeks or months before the author opens it up and reads it again. Even then, it needs editing and rewriting, and then more editing and rewriting. A painting, once it’s finished, needs time for the paint to dry and before the painter can decide whether it’s done or not. And the same goes with music, in which a song needs revising and fine-tuning, and a building, which needs touch up and maintenance after it’s built.

Quality cannot be rushed without consequences. The same goes with anything that takes time to develop, grow, evolve, and to become itself.

One thing that is hard to do when reading a book after taking a long break is picking it up again and remembering what happened. Even if we know what page number we left off at, it’s hard to remember everything that happened up to where we stopped. The plot and characters will seem hazy, like parts of a jigsaw puzzle that’s put together, and even though we might remember what events occurred, it can be challenging to know in what order they happened in (or what happened in-between crucial events).

I find that if I don’t continue reading a book within a month or two, I might as well start over. So much has occurred in my everyday life that those everyday experiences start to replace what I remembered from the book (i.e. conversations I had, chores I did, things I researched and bought, etc.) Plus, the book doesn’t bring the same experience as when I first started to read it. I actually wind up spending more time and energy trying to catch up and remember what happened and who is who rather than continuing with the story.

The same is somewhat true with writing, but not entirely. With stories I’ve written, I’ll notice that the word choice and prose of my older stories will seem vaguely familiar, but it’s not how I would write them now. The ideas and concepts of the stories will give me a feeling of deja vu, but my enthusiasm for the stories will have faded since I first wrote them. It’s like another version of me wrote those stories, but the me now would write them differently or at least incorporate ideas I’m currently interested in.

Continuity works best when we read a story on daily or weekly basis, and when the ideas we have are fresh in our minds when we’re writing. After a long break, however, whether that’s weeks or months or years, it’s hard to connect with or remember where we left off at. It’s like our minds can only keep track of what’s relevant (the here and now) rather than what’s far off.

Of course we can “sort of” remember what we read or wrote, but those memories will be choppy and vague, and we can’t quite enter back into that state of mind from our past, since new memories and new knowledge change the way we see things and understand them, disrupting the continuity we last remembered like a film that is missing scenes or a book that’s missing pages.

I find that when I plan things out, I have to have a plan B “just in case.” There’s always a curve ball that comes our way that disrupts plan A or makes me question it. Especially when I’m writing, I’ll start to deviate from plan A due to new ideas that come along. Or I might realize that the ideas I originally started with became less interesting as time went on.

This could apply to other things too, such as event planning, room decoration, or a wish-list of the things we want to buy. When planning an event, everything could go as planned until the weather brings an unexpected storm, or if the temperature becomes unbearable during the summer or winter seasons. With room decoration, it could be the fact that a piece of furniture is too small or too big compared to what we originally planned, since it always looks different in person, especially in the room that it’s in. And with the things on our to-buy wishlist, when we’re about to add it to our cart online or go to the store to get it, it could be sold out or the sale could unexpectedly be over.

That’s when plan B has to be put into motion. Sometimes it could be better than our original plan, since it was the one that was less expensive or more practical than plan A. Our first plan is usually the one that we become attached to, the one we don’t want to change or modify since we put so much thought and time into it. Plan B winds up in the back of our mind as a result, something that isn’t our first choice because it doesn’t have everything we want. But sometimes what we want can wind up backfiring, since it’s chosen for sentimental or aesthetic reasons than for what fits our budget or the needs of our goal, whether that’s an event, room decoration, or the things we want to buy.

In terms of writing, it’s usually the case that plan B is just one of many plans that happen to show up during the creative process. There’s a plan C that makes a surprise entrance, and a plan D, a plan E, etc. When making art, it’s a process that is continuously evolving and ever-changing beyond what we imagined or originally intended. The plans we make for them are more like rough sketches that can be erased and changed rather than a fixed blueprint that we must stick to no matter what.

Persistence is most effective when we’re making progress towards our goals, regardless of how minute or small it is. But when we hit a road block, persistence can wind up being counterproductive. In fact, it can wear us down, discourage us when we can’t see any progress being made after exhaustive attempts.

In my last post, I wrote about taking a step back. Some might believe that doing so is equivalent to quitting or failing when it actually isn’t. Taking a step back is only a temporary pause, not a permanent one. This can give us the time we need to revitalize our energy, to get into the frame of mind we need to succeed (or to look at a dilemma from a different angle).

In this sense, persistence and taking a step back are part of the same process. It’s part of the journey of ups and downs and roadblocks and successes. And as long as we don’t give up, we will continue to reach our goals.

When we take a step back, it’s because we’ve reached a point where what we’ve been trying hasn’t been working. We’re stuck, unable to find a solution, unsure of what steps to take. Even when we’ve exhausted every resource and idea at our disposable, it’s still not enough.

When we’re at our wits’ end, the only option left is to take a step back. When we take a step back, we’re distancing ourselves from the dilemma, giving ourselves space to focus and work on other things. It may seem counterproductive, but it’s a step in the right direction. Our minds need a reset, a reframing of the situation. It needs a fresh perspective, one that we can’t get if we continue to look at the problem in the same way.

It’s like focusing on one aspect of a dilemma that we think is the problem when it’s actually a different area. If we don’t give ourselves a break and take a step back, we’ll continue to look at the wrong area until we’re drained.

So why is it that it’s hard for us to take a step back? Is it because we think we’re going in the right direction, or is it because of the pressure to finish something (i.e. to finish it on time)? Perhaps a combination of the two. We’re so fixated on the time aspect that we forget that time doesn’t always allow for the creative freedom we need to explore what’s outside of the box.

That’s what taking a step back allows us to do. Sometimes we can be walking down the street and an idea will strike us, one that is the missing jigsaw piece to the conundrum we were trying to solve. Or it might be that while doing something mundane like driving, eating, taking out the trash, etc., we come up with a brilliant idea, ones that we couldn’t come up with by our own will.

It’s ironic that when we try to come up with great ideas, it’s harder to generate them at will than when we’re doing something mundane or while we’re relaxing. The thing about it though is that we have to be diligent about jotting them down, not letting the ideas linger too long before they vanish. Some of our best ideas can come when we’re not looking for them, so there must be something true about giving ourselves a break, letting our minds wander.

There are times when we feel like our skills and abilities aren’t as good as we thought it was or once was. These skills and abilities can be in regards to sports, hobbies, academic subjects like history and science, or occupations. Not succeeding or reaching a roadblock can feel discouraging, and at times, it can seem as if we’re not making any progress in achieving our goals.

We might wonder where are strengths lie, what gifts or talents we have. It can be a long journey towards knowing with many twists and turns that take us to dead ends or unexpected surprises. It might be a lifelong pursuit, but in the meantime, we’re trying to survive, trying to make it by. 

We take on occupations or careers that might not be what we’re passionate about, but we do it because it puts a roof over our heads, meets our practical needs. It’s not like we expect to do anything groundbreaking in our line of work, but it does fill a role, a need that is required in the grand scheme of things. 

Amidst our day-to-day jobs, we’re searching for that one thing that defines us, that awakens what is extraordinary in us. It’s that remarkable gift that gives us superpower-like abilities, which makes what we do look easy when it’s actually difficult and rare. 

Some will go through great lengths to discover this gift from within, studying many fields, investing time, energy, and money in pursuit of it, while others are content to let it be dormant. But ultimately, it’s up to us to find it, to know what it is. No one else can tell us, since it’s something we have to discover.