Month: February 2023

I cannot count how many times I’ve misplaced items, only to find them weeks or months later just by accident. It’s as if I think I’ll remember where I’ve put an item the moment I put it away, such as in a drawer or in a box, only to forget about it later when I’m trying to find it.

It just turns up after I’ve already bought something to replace it, or it turns up when I happen to be organizing or looking for other things. I realize that when I put something somewhere I think I’ll remember it, it’s not done on an organizational level, but on the assumption that I’ll use it again very soon. But that assumption won’t hold for very long, since new situations come up daily, and soon, I’ll forget about that item.

And even if I organize everything and keep things tidy and neat, my assumption of where things should be will continue to change as I improve upon the preexisting model of organization. It’s like organizing is a work in progress, something that is organic rather than fixed and constant, since our shelves, drawers and bins can fill up quickly, and we need to make more space to organize our things, or the organizational system we had had become inadequate, since it needs to be adapted to practical daily use.

When we’re in the habit of carrying out the same routine, it’s one that we’ve become conditioned to, one that has become automatic: done without thought. This can apply when we’re driving home from work, but we only notice how automatic it has become when we have to make a detour, say, at a store. Sometimes we might unintentionally drive passed it without realizing we’ve done so, since we’ve become so accustomed to driving passed it on the way home. Or we might notice it when we’re cooking and we want to try out a new recipe, but we end up same meal anyway. It’s only after the meal is cooked that we realize we forgot to add in different ingredients, or to change the quantity of salt, sugar, etc.

Autopilot is perhaps a survival mechanism, a way for our brains to conserve energy while performing a repeated task so that we don’t drain it by thinking about every step of the process, since we’ve done it a hundred or a thousand times. In the modern world, autopilot has applied itself toward the routines and habits aforementioned, such as driving, cooking, as well as doing chores, and the tasks at our jobs.

It’s only when we deviate from the beaten path that we notice how often we’ve been on autopilot (or that particular routine). It’s like a shock to the system, a surprise to the senses, since deviations from routines are a break from the familiar, the ordinary.

It makes us wonder if we’re on autopilot all the time, or at least, most of the time, and how regular and patterned our world has become through technology and a time-centered outlook. Have we become so accustomed to day-to-day routines that we’re operating on autopilot since it’s convenient and familiar, or is it that the schedules that we’ve planned for the week are more conducive to operating on autopilot? Is it the case that being on autopilot is necessary for survival? Could it also be the case that when we’re bored or need variation and change (i.e. traveling to new places, setting new goals, etc.), that we begin to deviate from the beaten path?

Every five years, we end up in different places in our lives whether that’s economically, socially, geographically, professionally . . . even in terms of our goals (i.e. whether we accomplished them, or the ones we set for ourselves).

Of course, a lot can happen in a year or two, even three, but in five years, it’s as if we lived a different life, had a distinct mindset and outlook that was unique to us then. Five years ago, I was in a completely different place in terms of my outlook and focus compared to where I am now.

I would say as time progressed, I became more focused on the practical side of life, focusing on daily routines, organization, chores, etc., whereas before, I was more focused on reading literature, learning about the arts, creating art, etc. And if I were to go back another five years from that point in time, I was even more focused and immersed in the arts, learning from books and reading and discovering different authors.

As I go back every five years in the reservoir of my memories, it all seems like a lifetime ago, although it’s not. In the span of each five year interval, so much has happened, and there seemed to be all the time in the world in each and every moment, but when we look back on it from the present, it all happened so fast, kind of like a distant and fading dream.

When you know you have something but you can’t find it, it can be a perplexing and confounding experience. As you look under every possible rock (metaphorically speaking, of course), and you still can’t find it, you try to think back to when you last saw it, where you might’ve put it.

I had this experience recently with a tool I was trying to find. I clearly remembered holding it in my hand and putting it away inside of a bin. But when it came time to get it, it wasn’t where I thought I had put it. It was like it got up and walked away on its own like it was playing hide and seek.

I searched everywhere for it, going through bins and drawers and whatnot, and no matter where I looked, it wasn’t there. Then a thought dawned on me: had I thrown it away? Did I accidentally throw it in the garbage bin, thinking at the time that I wouldn’t ever need it? Besides, what other explanation was there? I didn’t let any one borrow it. I didn’t take it anywhere. And it couldn’t have just walked off on its own.

After an exhausting search that led me no closer to finding it, I decided to replace the tool and ended up buying a new one. I wonder if it will turn up one day when I’m not even trying to find it. It might turn up as I’m casually rummaging through boxes and bins as I’m finding something else. It’s happened before, or maybe, just maybe, it was really good at playing hide and seek.

When I keep myself busy, I know I’m being productive, and when I’m completing tasks on a to-do lists, whether those are chores or fixing things or organizing my space, there’s a sense of accomplishment that comes from knowing that I’m being productive and utilizing my time wisely.

Of course, there are limits to how much we can stay busy, because staying too busy can lead to burn out, exhaustion, and a sense of restlessness. Time needs to be set aside for rest, relaxation, and recreational activities, such as exercise, sports, and or hobbies. But even those have their limits as well, since too much rest, relaxation, etc., can lead to a general sense of boredom, lethargy, and a feeling that time is passing by without making the best use of it.

Staying busy is one of those things whose meaning varies depending on how you look at it. Does it mean a day filled with long hours of work, a schedule full of activities and a long list of to-do items, or does it mean keeping the mind and body busy, of not letting each day pass by without completing something that is important and fulfilling?

There is something to be said of each of these, since work can keep our minds active, give us a sense of purpose, and completing activities or to-do items can keep us on track of what we need to do so that we’re not forgetful about things. But when we’re pursuing something we’re passionate about, it’s a different kind of busy, since it doesn’t seem like something that’s busying us, but that by pursuing it, we are staying busy.

When we select goals, we are careful to not choose ones that are beyond our means and impractical, since such goals can discourage us overtime. Even though we want the rewards that come with surpassing expectations, of achieving greatness, it’s not as simple and straightforward as we would expect. In fact, after we realize how challenging and overwhelming some goals can be, not to mention how much more work is required of us than what we initially expected, we might begin to second guess ourselves, perhaps even set those goals aside.

Selecting goals is one of those things where they have to be tailored to what we’re passionate about, and reevaluated from time to time so that we’re not burned out or prone to giving up in the process of achieving them. It’s easy to capriciously select goals that seem achievable and extraordinary, but in actuality, putting the work and time into them is an entirely different story. We might begin to lose interest and motivation after awhile, or something else might come along that will draw our interest away. Or it could be the fact that we still have a lot to learn, or we need to develop a routine and become disciplined before we can even achieve those goals.

In addition to all of this, we have to pursue them for the right reasons. Are we pursuing the goals to impress others, to achieve fame, or are we pursuing them because they’re rooted in what we’re passionate about, in where our interests, creativity, and intellect lie?

There are times when I’ve asked myself: “What have I accomplished?”

It’s a question whose meaning and answer depends on what a person defines as an accomplishment, because for one person, writing a book is an accomplishment, but to another, it’s not enough (meaning, they should’ve written two).

But two isn’t for everyone. It could take a writer years to write a novel, or even a decade. Who knows how much work and time they’ve put into it, how many drafts they’ve written, how many roadblocks they’ve stumbled upon in the writing process. They don’t want to rush publishing a story that they’re not happy with, a story that still needs work. To them, finishing that first draft is an accomplishment in and of itself.

In a way, our answer to that question is more telling about ourselves than what we’ve actually accomplished. If we’re extremely hard on ourselves, or hold exceedingly high expectations, then whatever we’ve accomplished might never be enough. But if we know how hard something was to achieve, not to mention the successes we made along the way, then at least one thing we’ve completed from start to finish is surely enough, surely worthy of an accomplishment.