We tend to believe that our lives will go on forever. We convince ourselves that we’ll never grow out of our early 20′s. We assume that our best days are inevitably ahead of us…

…but what if you lost it all? What if everything that you currently hold near and dear suddenly disappears or is taken from your life? What if you wake up tomorrow morning and your house or your car or your family or your bank account or your business or your retirement stash or your dog or your feet or your wardrobe or your mental capacity or your boat or your kitchen cabinets overflowing with your food or your anything was suddenly non-existent? Could you, would you, still continue to thrive? Would you still have enough fuel–the right kind of fuel–to get through the day?

As people, vague as that may sound, we lose sight of what genuinely, deeply fuels us. We are easily distracted by possessions and silly material gains which, by way of self-permission, trick us into believing that they really are what truly fuels us. We get so caught up in random things that they actually start to define who we portray ourselves to be and eventually set the boundaries for who we believe we genuinely are.

What fuels you? If things are your source of motivation–why you wake up each morning, why you work, why you interact with others, why you serve, why you live–then you need to drain and refuel differently. What if you lost everything that you currently believe fuels you, that gives you the energy and nourishment to live each day? How would you respond?

Fuel up wisely.

 “Work expands to fill the time available for its completion”

-Cyril Northcote Parkinson, The Parkinson’s Law

Here is what you really have to ask yourself: Does quality trend parallel with time? In other words, if you have more time to spend doing a task, are your results of higher quality?

When I was in college, professors would always (always!) hand out syllabi at the very first class meeting. These syllabi would outline every reading, writing and team project assignment for the entire semester and delicately inform us as to when exactly they would have to be turned in. Without fail, at least one professor would assign a huge, end-of-the-semester, multi-faceted research project to be turned in and presented on during the last week of class. The project would, of course (freak everyone out!), be worth a majority of our points. So, if we wanted to do even remotely well in the class, we had to succeed on the end all project. Here is how the time line usually unfolded for me: Think, worry and scuffle about aimlessly for the first four and a half months of the semester and then (finally!) get to work the week before the project was due, ace the presentation, rock the paper and pass the class.

Wouldn’t it have been easier to have just started the week before it was due (like I did anyways) and not have wasted all that mental and physical energy on worrying and thinking about the task before that point in time?

The answer is yes. It’s the law, Parkinson’s law.

A lot of people (OK, most of us) have snooze buttons on their alarm clocks, and a lot of people (yes, most of us) utilize those snooze buttons nearly every day like some kind of morning ritual to be played over and over again like some personal, horrific Groundhog Day remake. You know that you aren’t going to get out of bed until 6:30am, but you insist on setting your alarm for 5:45am because this time you are going to get up early and get your day started right! Yeah right. Sure you are. The following morning you hit your snooze an amazing 6 times, each time disturbing and resetting your sleeping pattern and throwing you off for the rest of the morning. What a waste of time. Wouldn’t it have been better to have either (a) just gotten out of bed or (b) set your alarm for a time at which you knew you had to get up, thus saving you 45 minutes of sound sleep?

The main point is this: If you give yourself too much time to accomplish something, you automatically increase the amount of work & energy you must put into it in order to get it accomplished successfully. The more time you allot to a chore, the harder that chore becomes. As humans, we naturally put things off. But, just because we put something off doesn’t mean that we don’t still exert energy toward the task. What if we started putting tasks off on purpose instead of putting them off due to our own apathy? Start putting things off on purpose. Set deliberate time schedules for specific tasks and stick to those schedules. Saying to yourself, “I really need to get my wife a gift, her birthday is in July” when it’s only May, is wrong thinking and is only going to cause you angst and worry. We apply pressure to our own lives by not setting strict guidelines as to when we are going to accomplish certain tasks. This of course leads to over thinking, worry and sleepless nights. Instead you should think, “My wife’s birthday is in July, it’s now May 19th, I will start planning for her birthday and thinking about it at 5:30pm on July 7th, and I will dedicate one hour to planning for her birthday every day leading up to her big day.” Case closed. Mind scheduled. No worries, no wasted time.

Eliminate wasteful thinking and planning. Put tasks off on purpose. Remember that work expands to fill the time container which you give it. If you allow a task too much time, you are planning on giving yourself way too much work.

Make your own syllabus, and don’t work so hard!

I recently returned from a quick getaway to Belize, Central America.  I had a fantastic time; highly recommend it.  There are very few things in life which are better than an adventurous trip in which you can combine and enjoy both ocean and jungle experiences; and Belize is a destination which is casually overstocked with both.  

Options can be hard to navigate.  Where will I live, East coast or West, mountains or plains?  What will I do this evening, workout or watch TV?  Should I go to college or try something more abstract?  Do I want whipped cream on that latte or maybe just some cinnamon?  Do I really need leather interior or should I stay with the cloth?  Should I watch The Biggest Loser or American Idol?  Should I buy a house or continue to rent?  Do I really want to cut my hair?  Should I study abroad or take that internship?  Pinot Noir or chilled Riesling or a Belgium?  Should I marry my girlfriend or just maintain our status quo?  What flavor of gum should I buy?  What’s the best deodorant?  How many different types of razors does a guy need to choose from!?

Options are wonderful, but they can be challenging and/or frustrating to choose between, to figure out which one is the best for you.  

Don’t be fooled by the marketing…unless you have no choice.  When it comes to deciding which deodorant your wife is going to enjoy the most (after she inconveniently forgets to mention which one is her scent of choice) you’re in trouble, marketing will win; and inevitably you’ll purchase the one with the prettiest wrapper that doesn’t smell like a hospital.  For some decisions, the marketers have already staked their claim.  However, there are still plenty of choices throughout life which will require some serious contemplating, and your decision making apperati will almost certainly be stretched to the max because you understand that these are the decisions that will almost certainly change or redirect the course of your life, forever.  These are the decision which are best left up to you and not the marketers.

When you get up with the sun and commence upon a day that is filled with only a few options, life can be very simple.  In Belize, my choices were: a) go to the beach b) eat something delicious or c) go snorkeling.  I know, tough.  How does real life work though?  How do we discern what’s best in the midst of all the madness or in the midst of complete calm?  Let’s face it, every day we are bombarded with a myriad of choices, some important, some absolutely not.  Every choice that we make, shapes us into who we will one day become.  Recently, my wife and I have had to make some challenging decisions.  Here are a few of the criteria we used to guide us:

1.  Which choice guides us towards (and not away from!) the goals we set down on paper when we first got married?
2. Which choice leads towards distinction, exclusivity, rarity and greatness?  Which choice makes us more abnormal, away from the average?
3. Would the debt acquired by this choice be a good or bad debt?  Personal fiscal responsibility.
4. Which choice enables us to most effectively help a greater number of people?
5. Which choice is more fun, the greatest adventure?  
6. Which choice helps us live out our dreams?
7. Which choice aligns most closely with our faith?

If a decision requires these type of criteria, you’re probably making an important choice.  If not, you’re probably just buying deodorant.

During my younger years, after summer had finally settled in for the long haul, and all we could do to keep the humidity from dragging us to the ground was to either stay in our air conditioned containers or go outside, we chose to go outside.  We were kids. We had to go outside.  Outside was where life happened! Of course, even the bravest of little Indiana boys could bear the heat for only so long, and eventually the fun would end, prematurely, usually in a puddle of sweat and bloodied knees.  Our one alternative to either staying in the AC or risking our very lives in the outside heat was to embrace the wonders of the local swimming pool.  And as with every good local swimming pool, there also had to be the traditional swimming lessons.  

There was one stroke in particular which I despised:  The backstroke.  

The backstroke was (and probably still is) a source of challenge and annoyance for me.  The backstroke was a moment by moment process.  For example, one moment I would be surging past my competitors, a streamlined torpedo of speed and agility, and the very next moment, I would be surging on top of and torpedoing over my helpless and irritated neighbors.  In my mind, the pool lacked barriers, anything to prevent me from crossing lanes.  There was no way for me to distinguish one space from the next, no lines or objects to guide me from one end to the other.   All I had was a vague hunch, a lack of or a barrage of neighborly screams, and some random “guiding” clouds up above, to keep me headed on a straight path.  As the summer wore on, and as I was continually demoted to lower ranks of ability based on my poor backstroke rating, I found myself apathetic towards the backstroke.  It was so difficult to navigate while going backwards that I simply decided to concentrate all of my energy into motion and leave direction somewhere far out of my swimming state of mind.  Essentially, I became a drifter.  A stroke here and a stroke there, large expenditures of energy, at random times, never really resulting in getting anywhere closer to my final destination, the other side of the pool.  In fact, I had no intention of ever getting to the other side.  I was content to flail about and simply drift.

Are you content to drift?  

If so, it’s time to develop intention.  A growing number of people are willing to drift through life, never engaging, never preparing, never facing down a challenge, never developing authentic relationships, never really trying.  We simply float along, waiting for the next surge to push us this way or that.  What are your intentions?  If you don’t have any…get some!  Why?  Because you are capable of greatness.  We all are, but greatness does not come to those who have no intention of ever getting there.  Sometimes it seems as though we are swimming in circles while everyone else glides easily (in their own lanes!) from one side of the pool to the next.  Don’t get discouraged.  Go back to (or develop) your fundamental, baseline intentions. Stand-up, put your feet down, look around, understand where you’re headed and why, and then, start swimming again.

Intentions guide your direction while focusing your attention.

A new climber faces the reality of her climbing ability very quickly, nearly instantaneously, from the moment she reaches out for that initial, piercing hand hold.  The pain associated with placing all of ones weight onto their soft, warm finger pads is immediate and, at first, nearly unbearable.  Never before have you had to literally hang from a hard rock face by the tips of your fingers and toes.

If you choose to begin climbing, you will leave some blood on the rock, and you will go home missing several (or all!) of your hand and finger pads.  It is painful, and it’s an introduction into climbing that most new climbers refuse to re-live.

Before you begin climbing, ask yourself these questions:

1. Am I willing to invest a months worth of time into climbing in pain, with bloody fingers, with worn out forearms, with missing palm pads and with cramped feet?  If yes, climb on!  If no, do you really want to invest that initial time, energy and flesh(!) into something that you are going to quit (or regret) the next day?
2. Do I want to be a great climber?  I can see what other dedicated climbers are doing on the rocks already–do I want to be able to join them?  If yes, please proceed!  If no, than why bother?  If you don’t want to be a great climber (if you only want to climb every-once-and-a-while) than all you will ever gain are bloody fingers.
3. Do I want the respect of my fellow climbers, or do I just want to take up space?  Expert climbers can easily judge who is serious about becoming a great climber and who is just out there for the “experience”.  They will respect (and genuinely help!) those who are serious and engaged in climbing.  They will disregard those that they believe are only there to put some fresh flesh on the rock.

If we are going to become great at anything, it is going to require an initial pain investment.  The pain or challenge may not come immediately, but eventually, it will come.  Are you willing to push through the pain, “lose some finger flesh”, and move forward into success?  If you are going to start becoming someone who does something great, than start, and push through the challenges.  If you don’t want to become that person in that arena of greatness, then please don’t even start.  It’s not worth the pain.

Find an arena where you authentically want to become great and pursue it despite the challenges and pain.  How do you see yourself getting bloody fingers?