When, exactly?

It’s always now. (Image by Erik Karits)

A lot of us entrepreneurs and artists always have a list of projects we want to do.

It's an impulse that is difficult to quiet. We could take up calligraphy, start a taco stand, record an album of songs played entirely on toy instruments, or finally sort that scary box of papers in the corner and see who we might owe money to.

It's a strange feeling when there is nothing to grow, fix, or tinker with. A friend who has always run her own business is now working full time for someone else's company. She said, "It feels weird to just keep my money. I'm so used to reinvesting it in my business."

Even though I'm definitely not working full time on any one project, my plate is similarly full. The app that I use to organize my day, Sunsama, gives me an estimate for the amount of time it will take to complete my tasks and meetings. In January, I was regularly seeing twelve and thirteen-hour workloads. Now, it's down to a manageable eight or nine, but that's still a lot.

So when I have that impulse to do the next thing — or feel, out of habit, the obligation to lay the groundwork for whatever is next — I have to ask myself, "When, exactly?"

Which of these meetings will I cancel to make time for this new project?

Which of my tasks will I delegate, drop, or defer?

Having already combed through and streamlined as mercilessly as possible, I have to accept that there isn't really a "when" available. I can keep an eye on things and be ready when the load lightens. But until then, I can release myself from the nagging sense that there is something additional that I should be working on or pushing toward.

On the other hand, that question — when, exactly? — is just the right one for the moment when I find myself ready to commit to a new project. If I really want to start a business or learn a new skill, I don't have to relegate it to the nooks and crannies of my life. I can put it on my to-do list or even my calendar, honoring the time that it will take and ensuring that nothing else takes precedence. Now, my time is full once again.

I have missed this a lot in the past. I don't really think about when I will do the work, and then I disappoint myself when it doesn't happen. I never had a chance. I either didn't have the time, or I didn't make the time.

By turning down or postponing a future project, I'm giving my best energy and care to the ones I have. And when the time comes around for the new one, it will take up a few slots of its own, blocking other possibilities. How sad that we can't do everything, but that's life.

These days, I am often able to get places on time. This miraculous thing is happening because I am paying better attention to how long it takes to do things and recognizing the opportunity cost of that which I choose to do. We have a time and energy budget, just as we have a money budget, and we ought to spend it wisely, in alignment with our values.

There's so much I want to do. There are so many places I want to go, all at once. As hard as it is to tell myself no, I recognize that I am saying yes somewhere else. If I don't like what I'm saying yes to, I can change it. But there's no escaping the finiteness of life.