Tag Archives: Intentionality

Taking Time to Make Time

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There are two days on my calendar: this day and that day.

Martin Luther (1483-1546; German theologian; seminal figure of the Protestant Reformation)

How many times have you said to yourself or to someone else, “I can’t wait until [this evening? this weekend? this summer? my vacation? my retirement?] so that I will have time to [read? connect with family? do more writing? start blogging? exercise? meditate? finish some projects? have some me time? sleep in? try that new restaurant?].

My “can’t-wait” list might go like this.

● I can’t wait until this evening so that I’ll have time to sit out by the Koi Pond.

● I can’t wait until this weekend so that I’ll have time to start cleaning up the garden beds.

● I can’t wait until this summer so that I will have time to focus more on my Mary E. Wilkins Freeman research.

● I can’t wait until my vacation so that I will have time to bike new Rails-to-Trails.

● I can’t wait to see where reinvention leads me.

Then, this evening arrives. Then, this weekend arrives. Then, this summer arrives. Then, this vacation arrives. And, finally, reinvention arrives.

And, somehow, every time “the time” rolls around that I had waited for, had longed for, had sometimes even wished small measures of my life away for, all of it–every sweet nanosecond of it–seems to fall through my fingers just as quickly and with as much certainty as fine sand falling through the throat of an hourglass.

And then that prized, precious time is up, and I realize that I didn’t have time to get it all done. Sit by the Koi Pond. Clean the garden beds. Do more Mary E. Wilkins Freeman research. Explore new Rails-to-Trails. Reinvent myself.

Can you relate? If you are being honest with yourself, of course you can relate.

Somehow, it seems that we just don’t have enough time.

I could say that it’s a matter of being mortal. And it is.

I could say that it’s a matter of managing time more wisely. And it is.

I could say that it’s a matter of scheduling time better. And it is.

But here’s the thing.

In reality, all that we have is time.

In reality, we all waste an awful lot of time waiting for the right time and dreaming about the right time.

It seems to me that a far better use of our time might be to make the time to do it right then and right there, assuming that we can do it right then and right there.

It seems to me, just as an example, that a far better use of my time might well be to take the time to write my blog post at the very time the idea floats home to me.

That’s exactly what I did on March 12, the Sunday morning when Daylight Savings Time sprang ahead and stripped away an entire hour, and my to-do list was too long to get it done in the time that I had allotted and that I had left.

It was then that this wacky idea softly settled on my brainscape. It was then that I said to myself:

Take time to make time.

And that’s exactly what I did with this post. I took the time that morning to write most of what you’re reading now. Mind you: that was the same day when I had been robbed of an hour.

Writing it–right then, right there–made me feel awfully stoked. Plus, it freed up my bedtime-time to work on other blog post ideas.

I did a couple of other wacky things after I had my Daylight-Savings-Time realization about taking time to make time.

One day, I took time to make time to sit by my Koi Pond not once, not twice, but three times–all in one day.

Another day, I took time to make time to take a long, luxurious tub soak, smackdab in the middle of the day for no reason at all other than I thought that it was time to let the fragrance of Thyme’s Olive Leaf bath salts bathe my memory and let its softness spill over me as I lowered myself lower and lower into the tub, watching my chest disappear beneath the silky smooth waters.

On still another day– and as nothing more than an out-of-the-blue lark–I took time to make time to create from memory–nothing more than scraps of this and that stored away in time’s shapeless storehouse–a calendar of the milestones in Mary E. Wilkins Freeman’s life. 

And here’s the thing.  Every time that I took time to make time, I didn’t run short on time. I still had time to do everything that I had planned to do.

And here’s the really sweet thing about it all. I didn’t have to wait for this evening. I didn’t have to wait for this weekend. I didn’t have to wait for this summer. I didn’t have to wait for my vacation. I didn’t have to wait at all.

It’s as if the far-away stars and the far-away moons of my wishes, my longings, and my can’t-wait-untils fell down all around me, glowed upon me, and gave me joy as soon as I took the time to make time.

Take Two | Fit as a Fiddle: The Intentional Way

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“Intentional living is about living your best story.”

John C. Maxwell (One of New York Times best-selling, motivational authors, having sold more than 24 million books in 50 languages.)

After I published last week’s post–“Fit as a Fiddle: the Inefficient Way”–I brushed up against a fear that stopped me dead in my steps! What if my readers thought that I actually believed in my principle of fitness inefficiency? Or, worse. What if they thought that I actually applied all of those inefficiencies to my fitness routine, day after day?

I won’t lie: I have used those inefficiencies from time to time to reach or exceed my steps-per-day goal. How else could I have come up with such outlandish strategies for getting in more and more steps. Obviously, too, my inefficient method actually does increase daily steps. As I mentioned last week, since the start of this year I have walked 782,356 steps. Yes. That’s right. 782,356 steps. Based on my gender and my stride length, that’s equivalent to 370.4 miles.

And, obviously, too, other folks do similarly outlandish things. Thank you, Chris, for owning up to the fact that you have even stopped “the car on the side of the road [to] jump up and down and walk around for ten minutes to make up for the lost steps.” I will remember that strategy!

Little wonder, then, that I felt compelled to post a “Take Two” so that I could seize the opportunity to make perfectly clear what everyone hopefully knows already. Fitness takes work. Hard work. Consistent work. Intentional work.

Trust me. I know firsthand. I’m a straight shooter when it comes to my overall fitness game, and I play it with intentionality.

Ironically, down through the years I thought that I was enjoying overall success. But a decade or so ago, my dentist discovered—during a normal checkup—some surprising and not-so-normal numbers. My blood pressure was elevated. One week later, my doctor confirmed that I had joined the ranks of one in three Americans who have high blood pressure and do not even know it.

She minced no words: I had to play my numbers better, smarter, and with greater intentionality. I suddenly realized: this is no lottery, where the odds are far too high against my winning. This is my life, where the odds are good that I can control some numbers and turn this game around.

Some numbers, I can’t control. Like my age: 74. Like my height: 5’ 8”. 

But I can control other numbers. Generally, I want them low.   

Like my weight. My current 181 isn’t bad, but the low 170s is my best wager. I’d like to get my body fat below 23 percent. I want to hit a range of 18 to 22. I’m getting there, slowly but surely, by eating fewer calories. By cutting 500 calories daily, I can lose one pound weekly. What a payoff!

Generally, I like my cholesterol numbers low. I want my total well below 200 mg/DL and my LDL—the bad stuff—below 100. That’s optimal. I want my triglycerides—the fat—lower than 150.  But I want one number high: my HDL. Hot tip: aim for higher than 60.

I want some other numbers high, too. Like fiber. Most Americans consume 14-15 grams daily. I’m getting 30 grams plus, by eating at the bottom of the food pyramid: 6-11 daily servings of bread, rice, and grains; 3-5 of vegetables; and 2-4 of fruit. Dividends? Less body fat, reduced colon cancer risk, and lower blood sugar.  Keeping my blood sugar below 120 mg/DL but no lower than 70 is keeping me from developing diabetes.  

Since that initial diagnosis, I’ve been playing my exercise numbers with greater intentionality, too. 60 minutes—every day. Every other day, I go for 90. No bluffing.

With my new approach to exercise and diet—and with one pill a day—my blood pressure numbers have plummeted. I stay in a normal range of 120/80.  Most days, lower. My resting heart rate is low, too. 60-100 is normal. Mine runs 60. Jackpot!

My doctor remains astounded: my blood pressure, cholesterol, and blood sugar numbers continue to be spot-on, back-to-back wins. In fact, my numbers are so incredible that she’s always asking me for insider information! Go figure!

I’m going to keep on playing my numbers not only by the book but also with intentionality. I believe in life, and I want mine to be long, healthy, and productive. I want to hit those higher double digits: 80s and 90s. Who knows—triple digits might be grand. 

It may be a long shot, but the way I look at it: if I don’t live longer, I’ll live better. Intentionally.