We all get the same 24 hours in a day....

I'm at a conference for technology and met with an amazing group of women this morning in a "Women in Technology" sub-group. During the introductions, quick connections were made in common themes of our research and our lives. Many of us either had or were pursuing PhD's, while working at least part time and married, most with children still living at home. Comments on the number of projects left undone sitting on our desks, having more ideas than time to work, feeling stretched beyond capacity and recognizing the lack of personal time were all echoed throughout the room. One woman wished she had more than 24 hours in a day. One woman wished she could just live without sleep. One woman wanted a "time-turner" like Hermoine had in the Harry Potter series. I made the observation to the group that no matter how many hours we added to our day, we would still be overwhelmed, overextended, with projects left unfinished or barely started. The group laughed and we changed topics, but I was very serious. Time is not the problem. How we manage our time is the issue.

I was in a room with amazing, brilliant, successful women but this issue impacts both genders - we don't give ourselves enough time and space to be people. It isn't just a problem of maintaining a work/life balance anymore. It isn't simply adding up our to-do lists and seeing we have 28 hours of life packed into a 24 hour day. We live in a over-stimulated, information filled society that makes space, time and silence so rare that they are uncomfortable. My pastor was preaching on the idea of rest, commenting how people can't stand in a line without looking at their phones. So I tried. I stood in a Starbucks line and willed myself not to look at my phone. I was successful - there were 2 TVs, a radio playing music and a person with a cell phone screen so large I could easily read the news article on their screen while maintaining the social etiquette for personal space. I didn't need my phone to distract me - I simply had to have my eyes open in the room.

However, it was this recent drive to Pittsburg - over 6 hours in a car by myself - that started me formalizing the Uncommon Journey. While many of these thoughts have flitted through my brain for months or even years, it wasn't until I had over 6 hours of alone time that I could create a substantial plan for the journey. I needed alone time.

But we need more than just alone time. This isn't 15 minutes to put in your planner. We need extended time without distraction to experience a level of focus that is nearly extinct in our society. The first hour of the drive, I had background music on and I was processing my morning, the drive, the timeline for my trip, the to-do list for the week, and a million other thoughts. After that hour, I was finally relaxed enough to simply hear the music I was listening to in the car. After about an hour and a half of listening to music (now 2.5 hours into my alone time) I actually began to have focused thoughts. The bits and pieces that had been flying through my brain were now ordered and I could approach them, one at a time, and actually experience a time of relaxed focus.

Our society isn't bad a time management. We are bad at sustained focus. Living in perpetual fragmented thought is common.

To achieve my goals doesn't require more time in the day - it requires less on my list.
To exercise my gifts and talents doesn't require me to join one more thing - it requires me to leave everything else.

Some have defined insanity by doing the same things but expecting different results. Well, I am certifiable when in comes to time management. I keep thinking a new planner, a new schedule, a more rigid structure will help me meet my goals. And it fails. Every single time.

I need to do less to move along on this Uncommon Journey, not more.

While I can't drive to Pittsburg every time I need to think, I can retrain myself in how I look at each day. Maybe with unscheduled blocks of time that are fiercely protected will make it possible for me to have a focused thought without a 2.5 hour lead time. Maybe built in times of silence and solace can retrain thoughts to stop whizzing through my head and instead remain stationary until I can process them. Maybe sustained activity, focused in one direction, can help make those moments feel more natural and come more easily.

It will mean less of things I like.

It will mean saying no. Or maybe saying, not now. But not everything I enjoy (or am good at, or have done in the past, etc, etc) aren't all the most important things to me now. Changing seasons of life doesn't mean perpetually adding responsibilities to my list. Changing seasons in life means that some things get carefully packed away, clearly labeled, and placed at the back of the closet in my mind, to wait until it is time to pull them out again. Just as my closet can't fit all four seasons worth of clothes at one time, my brain can't process being all things to all people at one time. I can't be all versions of myself, no matter how good or successful or important I think they are, simultaneously.

The Uncommon Journey is the road less traveled. And it is only one road, not a curly-q of meandering paths and tangential trips.

Nichole Nordeman, in her song "Brave", begins "The gate is wide, the road is paved in moderation. The crowd is kind and quick to pull you in. Welcome to the middle ground, it's safe and sound and until now it's where I've lived." We all live here. This is common.

The Uncommon Journey is narrow and covered with fallen leaves and twigs and overgrown bushes. It's uphill and you can't see the end from where you stand. But, oh, to see with fresh eyes the world around me and the purpose of each day. To hear the falling leaves, the chirping birds, the quiet breeze. To notice how the light creates shadow and feel the coolness of standing in the shade. To sit. To breathe.

Is there really anything better than this for at least a few of those 24 hours we are given?