If you’ve read some of my past blog posts, you probably know that I am a dog enthusiast. Over the years, my wife Lynn and I have enjoyed several canine companions. Scooter was one of our favorite dogs. But I remember him most for a rather unusual reason.
Toward the end of his life, our dog Scooter went blind. It happened over a period of several months. At first we weren’t sure what was wrong with him. He used to be so fiercely independent. He had always seen himself as alpha-dog–grouchy and self-centered. But now, the poor little guy would walk around bumping into things. This seemed to frustrate him, so he’d withdraw and go curl up in a corner. This just wasn’t like him. We became deeply concerned.
It seems that most of us live our lives in the fast lane. We speed along passing others, while the countryside flies by in a blur. Oh, we’ve convinced ourselves that we’re getting somewhere fast. But we forget that we’re sharing the road with others. Many others, and we all seem to be headed in the same direction. This troubles us.
We know that we need to take an exit off this speedway. That slow, winding country road looks so inviting! All our creative senses yearn to go there and discover where it will take us. But we’re afraid that others will continue in the fast lane and we’ll never catch up.
My usual morning routine takes about 3 hours. I realize that most people don’t have the flexibility for such a lengthy morning routine. That’s why I created the “Hour of Power Cheatsheet” infographic.
But let’s face it. Sometimes things go awry and even I don’t have 3 hours for a morning routine.
How robotic is your behavior? How much of your day is on automatic pilot? For most people, the answer is, “more than you think.” Invisible triggers activate much of our behavior. Without realizing it, we become slaves to those triggers. This is dangerous. These automatic behaviors can have huge negative impact on our lives.
As a young boy, I often visited my grandmother. Granny was what you imagine when you hear the word “grandmother.” She adored my brothers and me. She was more permissive than our Mom & Dad. She let us stay up late. She spoiled us. And she filled us with ice cream, cake, cobbler, and homemade banana pudding.
When my Grandmother died, she left behind some clothes, a little furniture, and approximately one banker’s box full of papers, letters, birth certificates, and so forth. In my grandparent’s generation, the average person accumulated very little in the way of paper documents over their lifetime. Today it’s different. My wife and I receive, through the daily mail alone, more paper in a single month than my grandmother accumulated in her entire life.
A few days ago, I was moving a pile of papers from one place to another, so I could find a different piece of paper. I realized that I have paper hiding in file cabinets, desk drawers, closets, and boxes stored in my basement and garage (and at least a half dozen boxes stored in a warehouse in Indiana). Mounds of paper lurking in the shadows of my life. This, I thought, has crossed into the borderland of insanity.