I don’t have enough time.

Who has enough time? Why does it seem impossible to complete the minuscule list of tasks you prepared for today? Do we really not have enough time, or are we using the time we have incorrectly?

There are few people alive today who remember long evenings spent on the front porch gossiping with neighbors or watching children play stick ball in the street. The days of snuggling up with a good book have all but come to an end, and just like the final chapter of a novel; we yearn for more. But how is this possible? Do we really have more responsibilities than generations past? Can it be said our hectic lives are busier than the pilgrims, tougher than mountain men, or more hazardous than the Aborigines?

In truth, we do have more on our plates than those who’ve gone before. A ancient farmer may wake up at 4 am to feed the animals, milk the cows, collect eggs, and prepare the fields. He may work until dusk planting, tending, and harvesting. But how many of us wake up early to prepare our children for school, then bare the burden of a morning commute, listening to our self help CD’s, to push ourselves eight to fifteen hours to earn a paycheck, a promotion, a chance, and upon returning home help the kids with homework, then cart them to soccer/gymnastics/karate/swimming/cheerleading, throw together a decent dinner, play with the youngsters before re-writing that proposal or fixing that pocket or preparing the house for the coming day? We all do.

And the reason we have so much to do? Well, technology has given the opportunity to complete far more tasks in a shorter period of time. But since planting a field is easier, and writing a paper is easier, and building a home is easier, then we have so much more time to pack in a little extra. Sign up for a literary club. Go ahead and take that art class. Get another degree, or just visit the library. And since those things are easier to do then ever before, we may have some more time to . . . .

Is it really bad to get more done? Is it wrong to accomplish our tasks efficiently and quickly? No. So why aren’t we fulfilled? Why do we refer to life as a rat race, dog-eat-dog, and like a marathon with no visible end? Life sucks then you die. Why? The answer is simple . . .

Poor priorities.

Imagine completing your job responsibilities, and nothing else. Pretend you live in a world where you’re only required to do the activities that maintain life. Technology makes it easy to blast past the important stuff, and if you scrutinize your life you’d see that the important issues of life aren’t the ones that bury you. At the end of the day, the tasks that leave you feeling wilted and half-dead are the ones you don’t need to do.

Sometimes you don’t need to do it right now. Sometimes you don’t need to do it today. Sometimes you don’t need to do it at all. Sure, you can spare an extra hour for that swim lesson . . . but should you? Is there something else more important you need to do? Watching a movie might sound grand, but is it going to interfere with a task that cannot wait? What if you threw out the veggie steamer, the hot dog cooker, the Foreman Grill, the sandwich maker, the deep fryer, the over-sized griddle (with special slots for frying sausages), and just use a pan? The point is, more often than not we complicate life simply by living it.

“We complicate life simply by living it.”

Honestly, we don’t need all the technology, all the advances, all the social programs, all the lessons, and all the classes to live a fulfilled life. Not that technology is terrible or time-consuming activities are bad, the problem is we don’t know how to balance them. If you feel overwhelmed by life you need to cut something out! Start with the stuff you don’t need to do. Pair away the bands until you can breath again. You’ll finally reach a place where you canget your work done. You’ll discover there is free-time treasure at the end of the proverbial work-day rainbow. And the good news is, as you become more adept at making schedules and sorting priorities you’ll learn you can comfortably add more columns to your to-do list without buying a casket with silky lining.

So before you download your entire music library to your i-pod, or enroll in the night-meeting of insomniacs anonymous, or slap down in front of the tube for a 10-hour marathon of Monk . . . finnish the important tasks. Prepare yourself for tomorrow’s work, and when you’ve reached the point you have no top-priorities left then feel free to enjoy yourself.

My mother used to say, “you can go out and play when your chores are done.” My mom was a sage.