Category: Reflections

When taking a walk, we can come to a fork in the road that takes us elsewhere. That “elsewhere” can lead us to a different part of the city, forest–wherever we happen to be. If we continue on the original path, we’ll reach our destination without much difficulty or thought. But if we go “elsewhere”, we’ll be taking a leap into the unknown, navigating streets or roads that bring new experiences–keeping us on our toes.

We learn from it by expanding our knowledge of the terrain and the other roads it leads to. This can happen in a city when we take a turn down a new road, or when we travel. On a hiking trail, the other path can lead to a stream, or a scenic viewpoint that shows us the landscape from an angle we didn’t know existed.

We take the other path when the original path has become too familiar, boring. We take it because we need variation and to gain knowledge. Some people might feel comfortable without needing to know what is beyond the hill, but at some point, curiosity will overtake them.

A setback can hinder us from completing our work, or put a ding in our budget. It can come in the form of house maintenance, car repair, illness, or an unexpected emergency.

Setbacks usually delay us for just awhile. The hard thing is to pick up where we left off after the setback is over. More often than not, a project (such as a book) relies on momentum–a steady stream of progress. But when there is a setback, it can delay the project for days, weeks, months, even years.

A setback is an inconvenience, for sure, but there is a silver lining to it. It can make us look at the larger problem–one that we’ve ignored. It can make us reevaluate what we’ve been doing, and to fix our mistakes. Lastly, it might be what we needed in some instances–if we were going down the wrong path.

It’s hard to pick and choose sometimes. A meal on a menu. What to drink. A new or used car to buy. To go out and eat or not. Or to spend 4 years finishing a major that might not be as worthwhile as another.

To pick and choose comes with commitment, a certainty about a choice–to a degree. There’s an opportunity cost to any decision. Something gained, something lost.

And that’s we get in the end. We gain and lose. A path not taken, a path that is taken. Regrets and blessings. It’s part of the reality of choice. Nothing’s for certain, except we have to pick and choose.

When we buy something new such as a new computer or TV, the novelty of having it will feel like it will last forever. But with time, the novelty will wear off.

When we become so fixated on wanting something, we elevate its value so high that it drives us to get it immediately. Our vision of having it seems like it will solve all of our needs. But after we have it, it will become all too familiar. Just another thing we have–another thing we possess.

To put things into perspective, we must not look at this new thing as if it will fix and solve everything. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have any value, however. Rather, it serves a specific need, whether that is bringing a little comfort, convenience, or joy to our life.

It’s kind of like wanting to read a new book or wanting to watch a new movie. After the experience is over, we feel happy, overjoyed even. But sooner or later, the novelty will wear off. And then it’s on to the next thing . . .

Some time ago, I had made a reading list of about twenty or so books. Like most reading lists I’ve made, it was more ambitious than I could actually accomplish. In reality, I only got through a few of the books before I took a break from reading. Then I started to write, and the unread books on the list remained unread.

Now, when I see those unread books on the bookshelf at the store, library, or online, they don’t appeal to me as they once did. There was a shelf life to them–a window of time when I was open to reading them, learning from them. Now that years had past, they no longer pique my interest.

That’s how most things are in life. Any wish list we had two, three, or ten years ago, will seem outdated by today’s standard, even unnecessary. The things we wanted to buy, the clothes we wanted to wear, the books we wanted to read–they all have a momentary significance to us.

Of course, not everything has a short shelf life. Maybe the places we wanted to travel to are still on our wish list. Long term goals still remain such as buying a new car, owning our own place, learning new skills, etc.

But with every passing year, technology changes, new products are released, property value changes, and so do our values to varying degrees. In a way, everything has a shelf life.

I don’t know why procrastination is one of the easiest things to do. It takes almost no effort to procrastinate. In fact, procrastination comes almost naturally to us, as naturally as walking, breathing. It’s as if we were born to procrastinate.

Of course, we know the consequences of it. It’s usually bad. It can set us back in life, keep us from accomplishing our goals.

Is procrastination the result of laziness? Lack of interest? An aversion for the things we need to do? Or is it more like a ghost, existing everywhere and nowhere, waiting to possess us when we’re feeling lazy, tired, or disinterested?

Procrastination sucks the life out of us, makes us feel like there’s no reason to get up off the chair and write, fabricates excuses to clean not the dishes or to make a plate of food. It sinks discouraging and negative thoughts into our mind, whispers into our ear like a ghost in the room.

But sooner or later, reality will come stomping its foot down, waking us up from the daze of procrastination, scaring it away.

Bills. Chores. Appointments. Meetings. Work. Food. Drink.

We cannot avoid the necessities of life. Reality hands out consequences irrespective of the excuses that procrastination fills our mind with. When we’re hungry, thirsty, and beset by late bills, we get back to reality, get back to work.

As we mature, we learn to respect reality more, learn not to listen to procrastination. But procrastination doesn’t disappear, but rather, hides and waits in the corner.

We hurry, racing frantically around our house or the office as if the world is about to end. We hurry because time is running out. And if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the meeting, appointment, deadline, whatever pressing matter it might be.

Hurry can be a positive or negative, depending on the way we respond to it. It can be positive when it pushes us to get something done and to not procrastinate and miss an important opportunity. For example, we hurry to board a plane on time, and to make it to a job interview. If we didn’t hurry, we’d be stuck at the airport, or without a job.

Hurry can have a negative side effect when corners are cut on the job, or when the standard of quality has been reduced for the sake of finishing a project. Even though the job will technically be done, it was completed at the cost of quality and craftsmanship.

Hurry can push us, incentive us to put forth more energy and focus and creativity into finishing something. But when fear creep in our hurry, that’s when mistakes and cutting corners happen. We must be careful to not let fear get the best of us, lest it multiplies our problems, making the situation even worse.

When we’re close to the finish line or the end of a project, we’ll hear a voice that says: “Keep going.”

Why is that, though?

It’s because if we hesitate for a moment, or stop to take a break, it’ll cost us time, resources, or even the prospect of finishing our goal.

More importantly, we keep going because if we don’t, we might end up quitting. And if we quit, what’s to say we’ll ever start on that project again?

Obviously, there is a limit to anything we do. Time. Energy. Focus. We cannot keep going forever. We cannot stay awake 24/7. At some point, we have to rest, recharge.

But to “keep going” doesn’t mean that we do the impossible. Rather, it’s to encourage us to finish what we started. Because when we’re close to the finish line, close to the end of a project, it’s not uncommon for us to slack off, to take it easy because we’re almost there. But we’re not there until we’ve crossed the finish line.

Pursuing new goals isn’t as easy as it sounds. We often get habituated in the routines and goals we’ve already pursued–doing what comes familiar to us–sticking to our comfort zone. New goals can be intimidating as a result. To pursue them is kind of like admitting to ourselves that the old ones are flawed or aren’t good enough.

New goals can set us on a path of self-discovery, as well as one of struggle or disappointment. Examples of new goals include learning a new language, learning a musical instrument, traveling somewhere new, getting a new job, moving to a new location, or making art that is different from what we’ve already done (maybe commercially risky). There is risk to all of these, and there is no guarantee of their being positive outcomes or success either.

But pursuing something new can reveal something about ourselves. We could discover things that we do or don’t like, talents we might not have known about, and see the world in a completely different way.

Usually, a new goal springs from a need that isn’t being met. It could spring from curiosity, or because we’re unhappy in our current situation. Either way, if we don’t at least consider new goals, we might remain stagnant where we are.

Purpose is behind everything. Study nature without purpose and it begs the question: Why are you studying it? Why even start with that plant or that rock? Why not spend your time doing something else if there is no purpose to them?

What is purpose? Purpose is the goal behind what we do. It gives a motivation toward why we are working toward something. In the example above, knowledge or understanding can be the purpose behind studying nature. And the purpose behind that is to know what they are–how they can be used for medicine, agriculture, or engineering. When purpose is removed from what we do or study, it’s as if we’re doing things on autopilot.

For example, we know intuitively that we need to work to earn a paycheck, which allows us to pay the bills, to have electricity, shelter, to eat, etc. But without knowing what truly motivates us, we are left wanting more from life, unsatisfied and unfulfilled from what we have.

It’s as if there is nothing beyond the horizon except a job and a paycheck. We don’t see the other opportunities that are available. The things we can learn or spend our time doing that maximizes our talents and potential. That purpose can start off as a hobby, and grow into something much more. And after we’ve found out what that is, it can inspire us to learn and to create, and we begin to see life in an exciting and meaningful way.