Priorities

"I just don't have time..."

How many times have we all uttered those words, or thought those words, lamented those words?

And yet, how much time do we spend (dare I say waste?) doing things that, at the end of the day/week/year, don't really get us any closer to our goals?

Turns out there are such people in the world as time-management experts. Though this particular one, through her own admission, is not always on time, doesn't have any super powers, and instead mostly studies those who are better at using their time. In her TED talk, she reveals that it's not so much about saving time by shaving seconds off of daily tasks, but by redefining our priorities. (Just listen to the talk; I'm not going to rehash the whole thing here...not a priority.)

So, as someone who often feels like my day has been wasted, or like I'm not doing the things I want to do, the things that make me thrive, I decided to take her advice to heart. She suggests picturing your next annual review at work or family Christmas letter and listing what things should be there to have made it a successful year. Then, break those goals into manageable steps and get started. Easy, right?

I imagine most of next year's Christmas letter (for us, New Year's) will be filled with tales and gratuitous pictures of our new little one, and that certainly will be a monumental success. Beyond that, I want to hike more (and once my center of gravity is back to semi-normal, bike more) and write more. I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I spend more time lamenting that I don't get out more than I do getting out. Also, since my writing class a few years ago, I haven't written nearly as much as I'd have liked. Not that I have an urgent story to tell, but I enjoy it. So those two things will become priorities for me.

Switching to the work camp, at my last annual review, I came in a bit short on two things--spending enough time with families (I'm efficient, what can I say?), and billing appropriately (I tend to undervalue/underbill my services, largely due to lack of understanding of billing criteria, and some general laziness). The latter of these is unglamorous, albeit important, but it's the first one that I feel will really make me feel more successful and fulfilled as a doctor. 

I tend to pride myself on said efficiency, seeing more patients and getting them out faster than my colleagues. After all, it is "urgent" care, right? If you don't need to be here, go home. Yet, I've realized two important things in this job that stand in the face of that mentality. First, each family that comes in to the urgent care needs something. Sometimes that something is just reassurance, or a listening ear, or yes, a popsicle and a sticker. But if I don't take the time to figure out what that something is, they may be back tomorrow, or go somewhere else next time, and they certainly aren't going to trust my recommendations. Secondly, when I take the time to sit down, to get to know my patients as people, to interact with their humanity and not just their physiology, I feel more fulfilled, they are more willing to hear what I have to say, and I don't get quite as burned out. Seems like that might be worth letting the next patient wait two extra minutes.

If I make these my priorities, if I choose to spend time on these things, then at the end of a year, I'm hopeful that I won't have spent so much time saying "I don't have time" and instead will have become a better wife, mother, doctor, and human.

Breaking the chains

I've spent the last 46 days (because this year I determined that it would behoove me more to include Sundays in my Lenten penance) disconnected from facebook (minus one, and only one, foray to retrieve a cell phone number that I had nowhere else...and I didn't even look at my wall).

It has been painful at times. Mindlessly scrolling through the apps on my phone looking for that blue and white logo even though I deleted the app because I didn't trust my self-control (clearly a wise choice), taking a picture to post before I remembered that I couldn't post it anywhere, collecting ridiculous hashtags to share with no one in particular, wondering what was going on in the lives of those people that I only connect with on facebook.

In other ways, it's been freeing. My husband says he notices me present more often. I have read more for pleasure during Lent than I normally do. I was able to commit to prayer time more faithfully, often before the end of day, so that it wasn't the last thing I did as I pulled the sheets up. I learned that I can indeed survive without it.

But I also realized that I am an addict. As I mentioned, my fingers are so used to pulling up the app on my phone that I kept looking for it even though I knew I had deleted it. I felt the urge to get on at multiple times throughout the day. I am still looking forward to getting on tomorrow and seeing what all I've missed in the last seven weeks (I also realized I get most of my news stories from facebook--depressing and embarrassing--because I missed such major things as a doctor getting dragged off a plane, and the US bombing ISIS). And so I want something to change. I don't want this Lent to have been a 46 day interlude that holds no lasting effect.

So I've been thinking about what I actually enjoy about facebook. I do like keeping in touch with more people, people that it's not feasible to talk to or text all the time, but who I still want in my life. I like being able to share articles, pictures, milestones, etc. And I've been thinking about what I don't like. The comparison of my own very real life to the facades that I measure up against, the mindless trolling that wastes so much time, the resentment that creeps in when my "friends" post inflammatory rants or memes.

I think the internet and social media can be a force for goodness, truth, and beauty. So that will be my new goal. I want to share God as much in that venue as I strive to in my personal life. I want people to see my page as a reflection of me, not a sarcastic or attention-seeking version, but an authentic one. It will probably mean I'm on a lot less often, and that's okay. In fact, I hope that's the case. Maybe it will give me more time to write and blog, which I've been wanting to get back to anyways (I can use the same goals for this venture, I suppose).

And here's hoping that next year, I will have achieved a balance so that I can move on to a different Lenten sacrifice. And here's also hoping that I (and you) can use social media to our purposes, rather than being slaves to it.