Fallton Havenstonne

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 Any wish list we had two, three, or ten years ago, will seem outdated by today’s standard, even unnecessary.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.