How to prioritize ourselves - No time is not an excuse

Time is one of our most valuable commodities. And although it seems to stretch on endlessly, our time on the globe is limited. Apart from work and other responsibilities such as family and running the household, there is time for ourselves as well. Here’s where time is often stretched thin. Time to do the things we love seems so scarce. It’s a truly special subject I’m writing about – we can measure time but there’s no other way to hold or grasp it. It just fleets by. Man invented clocks and watches to get a hold of time and to make society more structured. To be able to schedule appointments and go through our days more efficiently. Still, it feels like we’re running short.

We know the feeling of relief after returning home from work all too well. We might even think of the things we could get done in the amount of hours we have before returning to work. We go through our daily habits such as cooking and watching some TV. Suddenly, it’s eleven and we wonder how time slipped by and we were completely unconscious of it. Now, we don’t have time left to read a couple of pages of the book waiting on the shelf. No more time to take a walk around the block or fit in some exercise. Above all, time seemed to pass a lot

quicker than at work. Inexplicable..

Now there’s always a sea of excuses to not do what we actually want to. Tiredness, hunger, having to do the laundry or simply not feeling up for it. Whether it’s exercise, you wanting to make a call to a good friend or diving into a subject you’ve wanted to learn more about, we easily shove it aside. The seemingly continuum of time is one of the causes for this – tomorrow, after all, is a new day with 24 hours. Rome wasn’t built in one day and so reading books, exercise or even starting a side business can all wait. What’s the harm here is that we put ourselves aside as well. It’s not always a matter of time but more so of priority. The single mom with children or business traveler far away from his family and doing exhausting meetings all day long, might say I talk easily. And I do. As a single guy with a day job and no further responsibilities apart from paying bills, I’m relatively free to fill up my time as I wish.

After work, I am literally able to do anything I wish. I can exercise, write stories or learn cooking skills. I could take up dancing, learn another language or catch up with a long lost friends. The matter is, that often I don’t. I also get caught up in a rather unproductive activity and time suddenly jumps forward. The pitfall is that regardless of whether we have little or a lot of free time, we often spend it unwisely waiting for better days to do the things we know we should. More interestingly, we postpone the things we actually want to do. Lately, I’ve realized that I should be more present in the moment and actually notice time pass by. Free up more slots of time to do activities such as sports or writing. I am going to outline a couple of measures in this article that helped me become more conscious of the passing of time and how to actually make better use of it. This is not a productivity self-help article on how to cram more tasks in a day, it does highlight how we can actually realize where more time can be freed up. After all, even if we do something for only half an hour a day, at the end of the week it’s 3,5 hours. These can be used to learn new skills or further develop the ones you already have. Half an hour a day to call someone each day will keep your network of friends and family members up. Relationships often water down with the excuse being a lack of time. If I may say so, it’s complete nonsense. As one of my university teachers once told me, “Lack of time is no excuse. Having other priorities is. If you offer anyone you lost touch with to come get a bucket of money at your home, you’d be surprised to see how many actually do have some time.”

One thing to realize is that even though time is fleeting, it’s a commodity that is available continuously. The busy round-the-clock working single mom has just as much time in a day as someone lying in bed wondering what to do with life. This makes time an interesting concept, it’s delivered to us at a constant basis. Even though we might have wasted a lot of time behind the TV, time keeps coming and coming for you to use up. It knows no judgment, you use it as you wish. Also fascinating is that we can consciously decide, at each moment, to take the wheel and make a 180 degree turn. We can decide to stop spending time on a friendship that has made us feel bad for a long time and seems to run on negativity only. We can also decide to cut out TV shows that do nothing more than fill up empty time slots. We can decide to check social media less frequently. More radically, we can suddenly decide not to use media in the evenings anymore. To not watch TV, surf the Internet mindlessly or keep checking our phones until the moment we switch of the lights. Obviously, you are now reading this article on the Internet. And I’m the last one to say spending time on the Internet is a waste. It can be a very stimulating and productive medium. We just need to learn to find and enjoy these fruits instead of surfing around without a goal.

You might have an office job that requires you to stare at a screen for 8 hours. Still, if you come home tired, you possibly turn on the TV to see what’s happening. The negative news and little entertaining talk shows seem to swallow up your time. And once you sat down, there’s little chance you’ll get up again tonight. Therefore, reducing screen time is one manner to free up some time. You might underestimate the amount of time you spend looking at a screen. From just checking the phone to reading the news on your tablet, it all counts. We are drawn into screens and forget our surroundings. Most of all, we lose track of time. The little free time we have. For me, it works to consciously come home and do the tasks I have to. I then decide not to watch any screen. Then, at seven in the evening, I suddenly have nothing else to do. Normally, I would be surfing around or watching relapses of my favourite series. Now, I can act on a productive pursuit. I decide to go exercise and meanwhile listen to a podcast. I could catch up on the laundry or do some cleaning, also while listening a podcast. You can learn many things while listening to interesting ones and I have many favourites. When not using screens, I am far more aware of the time I have and it seems I free up so much more.

When the next morning comes, I try to wake up early and have at least some morning routine. It always involves coffee and meditation. I take half an hour of time for myself each morning. I then meditate, which looks harder than it seems. I try not to quiet the mind, but just having the thoughts pass by without engaging in them. Anything that comes up is fine, I don’t try to push thoughts away or start conversing with them. As a computer rattling on, the brain then comes up with many thoughts and releases them just as quickly. It’s a lovely way to get thoughts sorted and it really energizes me. While sipping coffee, I might also rethink the day before and plan the day that’s about to start. This puts me in an acting mood where instead of reacting to circumstances, I take actions in a better way than yesterday. I know my goal for the day and start my work with that in mind. I am not starting the day reacting to whatever is thrown at me but am fully aware of my reactions and where tasks fit in my day. What makes me most productive, especially at work, is that I directly do tasks that take less than 3 minutes. Anything that takes more will be grouped with other demanding tasks that I can all do once I’m in an entirely concentrated state of mind. Such as after another coffee.

During evenings, it’s good to reflect on the day or even keep a diary. I truly prioritize it. There’s few people that will remember what was going on in their lives last Tuesday. Mistakes they made, points for improvement or just thoughts and ideas are long forgotten. I always carry a notebook and pen to write down anything that comes up. This means I won’t forget and apart form that, it helps organize thoughts which can be hard to do in an already busy day. Reflecting on the day can be done at any point, in the car, on the bus or while cooking. It’s again good to be completely mindful and not be distracted otherwise. Once you’ve thought over your day or even written down some points, you can now look at the clock and decide what is the best use of your time. You might have already thought of that during the morning planning. Why not run some errands, or start doing things that need to be done and take less than 10 minutes? You can fit many 10 minutes in an evening and all of us have tasks we keep postponing. It might just be creating some order in the home, doing some dusting or watering the plants.

What else we can do to have more time in our lives is first thinking of when we spend it unconsciously. I, for one, am fond of taking half-hour long showers. I now try to reduce the time I spend on them. What was positive, however, is that I used my showers to reflect on what happened during the day. Now, as I need to shower anyway, I fit in a workout and shower at the gym. I tend to shower far shorter than at home. I work out for about 45 minutes. I do workouts that are short but focused on stretching the muscles and training them lightly. I tend to go almost every day and although I’m no fitness expert, for me it works to do light and short workouts more frequently than a couple of heavy sessions a week. I combine my trip to the gym with an errand at the store or with a cold beer in a cafe looking back on the day, post-workout.

What helped me tremendously is not sitting down at home. After a long day at work, the last thing I should do is sit down and switch off. Once you get home and stay standing, the mind will come up with all sorts of things you can do in this time. As it’s unusual for the brain to not sit down and zone out, now you’re standing it will stay activated. You will suddenly notice the trash that needs to be taken out or any other errand you otherwise wouldn’t even think of. It’s hard for us to stand still and do nothing so now you’re standing, you will notice you actually get a lot more done. Again, no matter how much time you have, try to prioritize yourself, family, health and your mental condition. You might need to make more time for yourself; for meditation, sports, reading a book or just time alone. I should say ‘prioritize’ yourself - family and friends will on the long run be far more thankful when they see you being happy and taken care of. We must save ourselves as nobody else can. Not having the time should no longer be an excuse.

© copyright 2017 - All Rights Reserved

Ruslan and the guest

The night set in when Ruslan rinsed the last glasses of the hotel bar. He had gotten used to the hot water burning on his skin. As he cleaned the coffee machine and hastily blew aside the grounds that had spilled out of the filter, he heard a loud thunder. The sky had broken open and it was raining by the buckets. Ruslan didn’t expect any more guests to visit the hotel bar so he planned to close up early. There were few guests in general, now that the weather had turned grim after a long summer. In autumn, especially when it rained, people would have their teas and beers at home. He had hoped for more revenue through the low season but it had not happened yet. With people from the city, the town was not well known. It was not exactly on a main route either. Ruslan had grown up in and around the hotel that he eventually inherited from father to son. It’s the bar where he had drunk his first beer, got his first kiss and laughed and cried through the many years as he grew up.

Even though the bar and hotel were only known locally, now and then a lost guest would pop up. They’d have gotten tired from the long ride over the patchy, bad road leading down from the nearest city. It was quite a detour so Ruslan was always happy to see any guest at all, provided there was little tourist incentive. Except for the hills nearby, which he had always dreamed of venturing into on a long trip. He had never done so. He had always thought he’d missed out on life. The hotel was the only place he had been. Ruslan decided to pour himself a whiskey and sit by the fireplace until the wood would have burnt up. He might as well stay here as it was colder in the rooms upstairs anyway. It was quite a long day through which he had served his guests and did a cleanup of the guest rooms as well. Ruslan did not have a specific vision for his hotel, it was plain and easy and just for people that wanted some shuteye. It was just white walls with dark wooden panels until halfway up the wall. Just like in the bar. A bed with a carved out headboard, which his father had crafted through many rainy days. A comfortable bathroom with a wide shower head. The one thing Ruslan had invested in. He despised small shower heads and the feeling of water softly pouring over the back. It had to burst out and steam, especially through the cold winters.

Ruslan did not enjoy having the hotel and bar. He just felt obliged to keep it as it had been passed down through generations. Now that he had no wife nor a son, it all seemed like a dead-end street. As he drained the sink, Ruslan always imagined this as him flushing his life down there. He did not want to do this, every day was the same. He had never been with a woman and the ones frequenting the bar were not appealing to him at all. They had mostly gotten divorced and started to live with the bottle. Not something he was into, not being much of a drinker at all. He just wanted to go out and see the hills. To go on a trip, even if just by himself. But he couldn’t because of his obligations at the place.

He slowly sipped on his whiskey, which he’d have every now and then. He felt empty inside while the rain melodically tapped the windows. He opened the top button of his shirt and let the hair peek out. Above the buttons was his fat neck with his stubble beard, leading up to his perfectly round face that had over time gotten wrinkled like a baked strudel. His eyes seemed to hang in there gloomily, always staring into the distance or to one of the landscape paintings on the wall. Paintings of the hills around the town that he and his father made. In the middle was his nose, looking a lot like the big wooden knob on the cash drawer. It was quite round as well. Ruslan often jokingly referred to himself as being the most handsome in the bar, but only after closing time. He was not very pretty indeed but did have a perfectly symmetrical face, with his hairline slowly drawing back in equal proportions on both sides of the round head.

He rubbed his nose with his large fleshy hand and looked upon his wristwatch. Almost ten. Just one more hunk of wood into the fireplace and he might even doze off cosily in the chair in front of it. He made himself some tea and added some honey from a tall jar from behind the bar. As he settled himself once more in front of the fireplace, sinking into deep thought, two headlights peaked through the raindrops and the thin curtains. Someone was coming up the terrain. It sounded like the car had trouble making the final leap up to the parking, that was a bit steep and muddy. Eventually, he heard the car door open. The trunk was closed with a bang. Slow steps to the bar entrance. Just three gentle knocks. Ruslan felt annoyed, as now he had to move himself from the warmth and got up to answer the door. ‘Coming!’ he said loudly, reminding himself to sound more kind next time. If only he had made another choice in life and not kept the damned place. Another three knocks. ‘Impatient prick’, Ruslan mumbled.

As he unlocked the bolted door and with a creaking noise opened it to the inside, the raindrops blew into his face. ‘Come in then!’, he yelled to the dark posture standing right in front of him. Inside came one boot, then the other. A large sportsbag as well. A tall man in a dark overcoat with a remarkably long face and matching nose, sticking out just far enough so that Ruslan kept focusing on it in the dimmed light. ‘Please, please, sit down’, said Ruslan to the tall man. ‘Evening’, said the long face. ‘Got any rooms?’ Ruslan nodded and offered tea, which the man refused. ‘Name?’ asked Ruslan whilst taking out his guest register from above the cash desk. ‘It’s Vladimir’, said the man whilst taking off his coat. ‘Vladimir Velichkov’. He sat down at the bar and whilst Ruslan was writing down his name, Vladimir pointed to the bottle of vodka on the shelves behind the bar. ‘I’d like one, please’, he said in a calm manner. Apart from a long face, Vladimir had some remarkable details such as a long scar tissue on his left cheek that made Ruslan wonder how it got there. The face was also quite tan and Ruslan couldn’t help but notice the man’s accent, it sounded like he came from the southern coastal area.

As Ruslan poured the glass, Vladimir got up and combed his hand through his long hair that reached over his ears. A golden earring in the left ear briefly showed itself. ‘I’d like to take it to my room.’ ‘But you could have it here by the fireplace as well..’ ‘No, thank you. I’m quite tired. I want to go to my room, please.’ ‘Absolutely Sir’, said Ruslan whilst reaching into a drawer to get a room key. ‘We have just five rooms and the fourth is yours, in the back so there’s no rain hitting the window.’ ‘Thank you’, said Vladimir as he took his sportsbag and slowly opened the door towards the staircase. The door was closed again and Ruslan was left alone in the bar. ‘What a remarkably strange man’, he thought to himself. Ruslan had always thought he could quickly decide whether he’d just met a bad or a good man or a happy or unhappy man but this time he couldn’t quite make up his mind. Vladimir seemed to pretend to be fine but to hold onto something grudgeful. As if he had wanted to be something else.. As Ruslan had the last sips of tea from his big mug, he heard the shower being turned on inside the fourth room. The steamy shower with the wide shower head.

As Ruslan now had a couple of glasses to be cleaned, he filled up the sink with hot water again. He forgot that this would make the shower of his guest rather cold. A loud ‘Devil!’ came from above. Ruslan quickly turned off the hot tap and decided to fill the sink with lukewarm water. He washed his cups and glasses and suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw that Vladimir had forgotten his wallet on the counter. The rain started rattling on the window harder and as Ruslan had finished cleaning the cups and glasses, he emptied the sink. ‘Again life down the drain’, he mumbled to himself. Suddenly he heard a very loud bang from the room above. It sounded like fireworks or something heavy had dropped. Or a gun.. Ruslan recalled that he was not permitted to carry up the man’s bag and suddenly his heart started racing. What had been in there? He grasped for the wallet on the counter and hastily took out the many banknotes and business cards. His ID card and bank cards. Suddenly, there was a note. Ruslan was shaking like a madman and unfolded it whilst trying to keep himself together. He was about to scream out of fear and had no idea what had happened up in the room. ‘I wasted my life. I flushed it down the drain. If only I hadn’t messed up. If only I had stopped to look at the hills and not continued my path into non-existence. If only I had lived’, it read. It felt like Ruslan’s heart stopped beating. He breathlessly stared right in front of him, at the painting of the hills he and his father had made.

© copyright 2017 - All Rights Reserved

#Shortstory

Tales of a fisherman

It had been a harsh winter, during which Petar had cut out large chunks of ice to be able to fish. Now that it was finally summer, his days were much easier. No more kneeling down to saw through the thick layer of ice, inconveniently holding in his belly that had become far too large over the course of the season. Petar was surely enjoying his calm summer, fishing, doing renovations around the house and enjoying quiet reflection. He had foreseen he would come to resent Eli much, whom packed her bags and left him at the end of winter two years ago. She had grown tired of the ‘poor man’s shed in the cursed swamp’. Not only had she left him, she took his only funds and left on Sunday afternoon, their day off. Petar had closed himself off from love and from basically all non-essential human interaction.

The event had broken an inner piece of him that did not heal by itself. Eli had destroyed the man for a mere jar of money. Petar had retreated to self-sustainability as a man like him, lacking education and a trade, would hardly make his way in this world. At least that’s what he thought of himself. The image he had reduced himself to. Petar had gone through two years of self-hate and resentment towards the world and would feel discomfort seeing other happy couples. Apart from that, he had not often been open towards his own feelings. One misty morning, as he folded out his chair right next to tall, spiky plants growing up from the river, he concluded that he had little to lose and might as well sit and wallow for a day.

During his fishing reflections, Petar saw he had aged in the mirroring face of the water. He would not have forever, a thought he always tried to suppress. And though his life was peaceful, he wanted someone to share the early mornings with and someone to make a pot of tea for. He never drank it all on his own. On some particularly gloomy mornings, he poured two cups of tea just for the plain sight of it. A rather strange habit, he thought it to be. At least it made him feel a little more accompanied, just seeing the damp rise from the untouched cup.

And as he tried to face the thought he would not be on the face of the earth forever, something seemed to snap. His gloomy personality, that was molded into place by misfortune, failure and rejection, seemed to have its voice muted. As he reflected on his life, little had ever satisfied him. There would always be a tomorrow, a tomorrow in which he would get a new day falling out of the sky. A clean slate to begin on. And even though Petar was a simple man, he did not lack an inner life. If all, his imagination was rather colourful even though dark black in some nooks. What he wanted was just for one week to be alive and not live through the nagging thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘should I only’..

It was pitch black when he walked over to the station and bought a second class ticket to the coast. Petar felt little joy towards his trip as he was quite nervous about what he would do on the coast. He had lacked stimuli from the outside world for quite a while and out of comfort had even chosen to avoid them. Now he would go search for them. He wanted to feel alive.

He breathed heavily as his anxious thoughts clouded the otherwise beautiful sunrise he witnessed through the train window. Of the little stress Petar had in life, the stress he did have was self-fabricated. His thoughts would grow darker and darker if he attached to them and started to fight them. His discomfort grew as the train chugged towards the coast and Petar even thought of getting off and taking the next train back west. Maybe he was supposed to live inside his little framework that he had designed for himself, to live comfortably in. Again, he looked at his reflection in the window and saw his face with the marks of age on it. He could not go on wallowing alone, watching the water crawl by each morning and sell the same fish day in day out. It would be a miserable existence.

Petar got to the coast and had a simple breakfast at a seaside cafe. He sipped three cups of coffee which he believed would give him confidence and strength. He tipped the waitress generously and had rarely felt more self-assured, as he crossed the pavement onto the beach. He took off his unpolished shoes and felt so energized he rushed to pull off his socks as well. He left it all right there in the sand and slowly but steadily walked over to the shore. It was the first time since his childhood that he had felt sand between his toes. This was something else than the pebbled riverbeds. A slight salty breeze gave him a taste of life that he rarely witnessed anymore. He sat down and put his feet into the water, that was warm and gently stroking his toes.

He sought a cheap boarding room near the main boulevard and to mark his victory of stepping into the world, he drank a whole bottle of red wine. That night, he was was handsomely walking along the boulevard and crossed the fair where everyone seemed to be having a great time. He felt remarkably sad though, the wine had made him very drowsy and he seemed to be more emotional after this already long day. Nothing at the fair seemed to get this attention and nobody at the fair seemed to pay attention to him. Then one stand got in his eyesight, it was a booth where you could fish for little ducks and win prizes such as plush animals or even a watch. Because he took the cheap boarding room he had a few coins left to make a catch. He seemed to have the experience needed and caught five ducks in a row effortlessly. ‘Fisherman, can you help me get that pink bear?’ whispered a silky lady voice right into his ear. Petar got a shiver over his back and the lady seemed to notice. She softly giggled and Petar struggled to find his words. ‘Well.. Yes okay’. Catching about eight more ducks in a row, the pink bear was handed over to Petar. He then gave it to Yana, the name of this sturdy blond lady with a full and lovely face.

And so, they both had a drink and retreated to the smudgy boarding room. Yana didn’t seem to mind, she was attracted to Petar’s confidence, his calmness and his eyes that were dark blue like the deep river he fished in. Eventually, when Petar slowly let his guards down, they had become immensely attracted to each other. A few months later, Yana, head over heels, drew in with Petar and so they lived near the river bank together and drank tea each morning. Petar was still broken but slowly, his wounds were healing. It seemed he found a partner. And every time she left for groceries on a Sunday afternoon, especially at the end of the winter, he would look at the pink bear in the living room, fearfully, until she’d come back.

© copyright 2017 - All Rights Reserved

#Shortstory