Here we go again, Business Viewers. It’s funny how fast time flies by us. One day you’re running around the neighborhood as a 10-year old playing tag or getting into some trouble with your friends, and the next you’re discussing life and death plans with your spouse. You’re planning which schools to send your children to for their best possible educational experience. You’re wondering how much life insurance to purchase, and calculating the assets you’ll actually have worthy of bestowing in your will. You’re asking yourself how well have you done as a parent, a spouse, an employee, an employer. Have you invested wisely, how can you better invest, and if you haven’t invested at all, you’re asking is it too late to start? Regardless of these questions, that you may or may not be asking, there’s one truth upon which I’m certain that we can all agree: Time Flies!
For the purpose of being a business magazine, it would seem that the flow of discussion would naturally travel down the financial aspect of what time means to most of us. We’re all so quick to say “time is money!” (Which is absolutely true.) But, if you spend all of your time quoting that iconic motto, you’ll, more than likely, find yourself looking at time run faster than it is already programmed to run. So, rather than to choose the path of least resistance, I’ve chosen to take another route. A route that discusses the qualitative value of time, and how, when properly implemented, will actually slow down the hands of time, allowing you to answer that relentlessly pressing question: “Where oh where has the time gone?”
As I increase in age (The Big 5-0 next month), I’m attending more funerals than I care to, these days – friends, family members, family members of friends, friends of family members, and even the friends of family member’s friends. (Right! That’s a lot of funerals). As I sit there in the church or chapel hearing about the dearly departed, I tend to slip away in thought asking myself, “What will people say of me when I’m gone?” Will my wife talk about the walks in the park, and vacations that we enjoyed? Or will she talk about how much of a workaholic I was? Will my kids talk about how much we played around, and how they remember watching movies with me, and playing outside, and being a spectator or coach for their sporting activities? Or will they talk about how they rarely saw me, because I worked so hard and so much, and how, even that being the case, they really loved me? Will my friends discuss all of the fun we had, places we went, discussions we shared, and lifelong memories we made? Or will they get up there and share how much they admired the ambitious go-getter I was? For that matter, will I even have friends there at all, due to having lost them to neglect, as I ambitiously worked to convert time into money?
As I slip in and out of this dimension with these thoughts while attending these funerals, I realize that some of them feel like joyous, energy filled celebrations, while others feel like death, despair, and depression. It was those instances where people got up to state how much time that person spent with them fellowshipping, playing, laughing, and simply doing nothing together, that left me understanding how I might be able to get the most out of my time here. Yes, I will be ambitious, and yes, I will chase success. However, I will not compromise the content value of the comments I wish to hear from those that choose to speak of me and my character once I’m gone. I, hereby, pledge to slow down the speed of time by spending it liberally enjoying those around me. In doing so, whenever I hear “where did the time go?” again, I’ll feel comfort in knowing that I can confidently answer it, and even more comfort in knowing that I will be pleased with my answer.
Until next time, plan, build, and continue to prosper.