Even though I like children, there are a lot of places I would rather not see them. These places include bars, walking at a glacial pace on a crowded Upper East Side sidewalk, in double strollers when I am trying to get on or off the 6 train, and at graphic, R-rated movies about phone sex.
Before sending off yet another email, ask yourself if email is really the right platform to communicate your message. Maybe a phone call would be more suitable. Or a face-to-face meeting. Or skywriting.
When did it become acceptable in America to treat helping strangers as "wasted time"? Everyone in the world agrees -- they should, anyway -- that time is our most precious commodity. But peoples' definitions of "wasted" are another great cultural divider.
During the past 25 years, I've asked more than 10,000 people where and when they get their best ideas. I get all kinds of answers, but the one that has fascinated me the most is "the shower" -- maybe because I also get so many of my best ideas there.
My watch stopped working about a month ago, maybe longer. Has time stood still? Is it some strange sign that the watch I have worn for well over a decade has stopped working entirely, right at the same time my very life has been at risk?
I was enchanted to see Phil Patton's piece in the New York Times on "Our Longing for Lists." The piece was illustrated with the image of Johnny Cash's to-do list (which, by the way, reportedly sold at auction in December 2010 for $6,250).
For those times when I can't get outside and I find myself with some time to kill, I'm going to start painting by numbers. Or maybe I'll try making jewelry or origami. Who says I can only have one hobby, anyway?
From what I hear, one of the most common happiness challenges is lack of time for something important. People want to exercise, or work on a novel, or meditate, or read for pleasure, and they just can't fit it into their day. I absolutely know the feeling.
I have navigated treacherous territory before. From experience I know that barks are worse than bites -- that no matter how scary, dedication to one's authentic journey takes precedence over fear, overcomes obstacles and provides ultimate protection.
I used to be the sort of person who was hyperaware of time passing. As I'd go about my day, I'd be painfully conscious of the seconds and minutes just disappearing into the cloudy ether. Each inhale and exhale I took signaled a blip that had been utterly and irretrievably lost.