Take any given day. Count the hours that you are awake in that day. Then count how many hours of that day you did something truly valuable.
And how many hours you just plain wasted.
This discourse is not an admonishment against wasting time. It is not a sermon telling you that you should stop wasting time.
It is an objective analysis as to the fundamental reason that human beings waste time.
We waste literally hundreds of hours per month. We waste at least 8 months out of every year. And we likely waste well more than 70% of our lives.
In answering that, let’s examine those periods of time that are not wasted.
What are those periods of time?
Those are the periods of time in which we are engaged. In which we are inspired. In which we are lost in a particular endeavor. In which we are given to heavy concentration.
This must, by deduction, mean that the vast majority of our lives is spent in an un-inspired and un-engaged state.
I don’t think anyone would dispute this.
I’m all about letting a grand question create a grand quest.
Here, then, is the grand question:
For the person who is so inclined, is it possible for him to live a life in which he is engaged or inspired or in concentration at every moment during the day?
The answer that an individual gives to this question will determine the path he wishes to walk. Whether it is the path of time wastage, or the path to unending concentration/inspiration/engagement.
I do not recommend one or the other. It is an open question for you to ask yourself.
The remainder of this discourse, however, applies to the one who is captivated by this idea.
If you are not, you will limit yourself to a purely intellectual analysis as to whether or not it is possible and why or why not. And intellectual discussions don’t interest me.
I’m interested only in matters of the heart. I find the brain to be incredibly overrated.
The truth is this: Possibility and impossibility only arise once the question is Sincerely Explored.
What if tomorrow was going to be a day filled with concentration from one end to the other?
What if there was going to be no down time?
What if inspiration was to consume you in some form or fashion from the moment you awoke until the moment you rested your head on the pillow at night?
What if the concept of boredom suddenly vanished?
What if tomorrow was going to be a day that you had truly never seen before?
The truth, my friend, is that we live on the outskirts of life. We spend our entire lifetime deliberating whether or not we should enter the mysterious void.
To be resolute in entering or resolute in avoiding it would be far better than a life of ambivalence.
What if you decided that you were so captivated by the idea of living this way that you would not give yourself even a moment’s reprieve from concentration?
Some will say that this is not possible as it will result in burn out.
They will say it is too difficult.
They will say that the effort is too gargantuan.
To which I will respond, “You are correct, my friend. For if you feel this way, this is precisely how it will be FOR YOU.”
We waste time because it is okay with us to do so.
We waste our lives because we have become accustomed to doing so.
And we have become accustomed to doing so because we have never asked ourselves The Great Question.
And because we have never asked ourselves The Great Question, we live reflexive and automatized lives.
And quite frankly, this is not a life at all.
For Zombies only exude the semblance of life.
The reason that we waste time is because Living Life is very low on our list of priorities.
And Living Routines is very high on the list.
We are addicted to what we must do next. We are addicted to our chores. We are addicted to crossing the T’s and tying together loose ends.
Our days are literally nothing more than an event-filled list of To-Do’s.
That is literally all there is for us.
And if that is all there is for us, why wouldn’t we waste as much time as we possibly can?
Man does not waste that which he considers valuable.
And if he considers his life to be a list of petty, routine wanderings, then it stands perfectly to reason why he would waste it.
In fact, I don’t blame him one bit for doing so.
Let me tell you a little secret: It is because man deems the daily chores and events of his life as MEANINGFUL that he lives a lifeless life.
If everything had no meaning for him, his life would become a play.
But “meaning” turns his poetry into a stale prose.
If your achievements meant nothing to you, you would achieve more.
If your work meant nothing to you, you would never tire.
Meaning is the intellectualization of life.
Rather than fly through the heavens, man is relegated to his well-appointed room with a nine-foot ceiling.
Man cannot see what is right in front of him.
He cannot feel what is immediately within him.
For he is too preoccupied considering its Meaning.
And it is this preoccupation that costs him all of his time.
And the whole of his life.