Feeling Hurried? Blame Netflix

One quality about modern life that no one denies: it's rushed.

It's hurried.

Frenzied.

No one feels like they have enough time.

There's a simple explanation: Modern life is fun. It's interesting. Tons of worthy things grab our attention.

The adjective "worthy" is the focus here. There are many ways to spend our time that are genuinely worthy: sophisticated, smart, engaging, fun, artistic . . . whatever. They are things that have quality at some level. Even something prima facie moronic like Naked and Afraid has quality, even if it scrapes dregs from the barrel of vulgarity.

It's a new phenomenon, unique to western culture in modern times.

Picture bumpkins in Appalachia a hundred years ago. During their (ample) free time, they sit on the front porch and look out or sit in their cabin and stare. Maybe they go for a walk. They have neither electricity nor books.

They're poor and their culture is materially poor, so they don't have a lot of options for ways to spend their time.

Wealth creates options. A lot of wealth creates a lot of worthy options at affordable prices. The more wealth, the more hurried we feel because there are so many worthy things to pack into the day.

Lean Into the Feeling that You Don't Have Enough Time

Here's a simple idea to conquer that feeling that you never have enough time.

Focus on time.

The paradox: By focusing on time, you won't think about time.

Here's what I mean: Don't think about what you will do. Instead, just focus on the time you're going to spend.

This approach turns your perceived enemy (limited time) into your servant (time limits).

You also will stop thinking so much about what you're going to do. It's a cliche but accurate: we're human beings, not human doings. Time limits will remove you from the relentless demand that we do things.

The approach is also right-hemispheric. The left hemisphere is tasked with tasks. By not thinking about the tasks, you don't engage your left hemisphere nearly as often, thereby taking its jackboot off your mental neck more often.

It also helps with Parkinson's Law. A task will expand to fill the time allocated to it. Instead of telling yourself that you're going to accomplish A, B, and C, tell yourself you're allocating X time to accomplish A, B, and C. You are then focusing first on the time, not the tasks. This subtle shift in your internal dialogue makes a difference.

BTW: This last suggestion, it would seem, should lead to stress ("Gotta get this done before time runs out!"). I haven't found that's the case, but if it gives rise to stress in you, try approaching it like a game. If you don't win (don't finish the task), just shrug and try again. For what it's worth, I've been trying this approach for a few years and I rarely correctly estimate the time I should allocate to a project, but because I focus on the allocation of time instead of the project, it rarely bothers me.

You can (and probably should) organize your whole day in a series of time blocks. I envision them as a series of "sprints." I set up six one-hour sprints at the office, separated by short breaks (5-15 minutes). After the sprints are done, I go home.

I always go home with a pile of work left behind me.

But I always go home . . . with the pile of work left behind me.