Life--The Investment Theory

I've done some searching around, and, though I will own the exact wording of this quote, I fear taking credit for the sentiment would border on plagiarism.  It has definitely been around in various forms over time, but, nonetheless, it is with this in mind that I write the following...

One could argue that not all things/people are created equal. Some of us are born into money, some of us aren't. Some of us overflow with musical talent, others..not so much. Some excel in physical pursuits, others in the arts. Some of us are great listeners or great thinkers, and some assholes are just generally good at everything. And that is all fine, and, for heaven's sake, don't waste time measuring or trying to place value on what God gave you, but if you're looking for the great equalizing factor, the one thing that no one person has over no other, don't look too hard. Find the nearest clock, and watch sixty seconds tick by. Now pick a person, ANY person, rich or poor, friend or foe, famous or humble—I'm going to pick Bill Gates—and now picture that person engaged in the same exercise—Bill Gates, sitting still watching one minute tick by. 60 seconds is 60 seconds is 60 seconds no matter who are, where you've been, who your friends are, how much money you have, what your talents are or aren't, or what letters you have behind your name. TIME—the great equalizing factor, a currency bestowed in equal measure throughout all humanity.

To me, it is self-evident that how you spend this currency is the greatest predictor of the future outcomes of any of those other things I talked about. If you spend time being educated, you will be educated. If you spend time playing the flute, you will be a flautist. If you spend time with your family, you will have a rich family life. If you spend your time doing nothing, you will not do much. The exceptions to this rule are surprisingly few and far between. When put this way, it seems so obvious, but if you're like me, knowing this and actually living it are two different things.

The example I'm going choose to illustrate this point is neither here nor there and, by no means, am I suggesting that you have to agree with me on this particular subject, but I do encourage you to critically examine how you are spending that most valuable time currency in your own life and if it aligns with the goals you have in mind for yourself or your family.

So I believe in 'play'--free, largely unstructured, outdoor, physical play. Looking back on my childhood, this is something I was blessed to have in great quantity. I am exceedingly grateful for this and credit a solid foundation of 'play' for many things I have enjoyed in my adult life—namely, an innate desire to move/exercise, a love of the outdoors, an outlet for stress, a creative mind, strong intrinsic motivation, among other things. And, in all honesty, I desire that exact same thing for my kids, kinda like 'free range children.' But you know what I did yesterday? I spent the better part of two hours on hold with the City of Saskatoon registering the kids for their swim lessons which are at some god-awful inconvenient time and location and which will inevitably involve our entire family spending the next 10 Sunday mornings packing bags, driving around, and doing swim laundry all for the gain of a half hour swim lesson of which they will spend at least 15 minutes waiting for their turn. Now, you'll remember that I didn't promise you'd agree with me on this particular issue, but, when I look at this from a 'time-investment' perspective, I am not overly wowed by the return. Now obviously, free play is not the only goal I have in mind for my family, and I realize that my children are not going to learn to swim in my own backyard, and that the whole packing bags/driving/laundry process is a necessary evil, but there's a nagging voice in me saying, 'wouldn't it be easier, wouldn't they engage/learn more if we all just went swimming for a few hours?' But swimming lessons—here we come!

Now I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I am actually not an epic failure at this whole 'free play' thing. My kids and I spend lots of time 'playing' and, as a result, they are great 'play-ers,' and I hope that they'll reap the benefits of that over time. And I have the odd moment of clarity, like when I see them run out the door and hop on their bikes at the first sight of spring, where I feel pretty good about this particular time investment! And that is encouraging!

But going into parenthood, I also had this notion that 'music' was going to be a big part of our lives. But here we are, 6 years in, and my kids' greatest musical accomplishments consist of naming the Top 5 Shazam songs in Canada and being able to croon out the lyrics to 'Animals' (I know, scary) with freakish accuracy. But, as the old adage go, we reap what we sow...should I expect anything other when my children's musical exposure consists almost entirely of listening to pop radio in the van as we drive hither to tither? It's not like we've been regularly frequenting the symphony or jamming in the basement. Poor kids. Perhaps it may sound as though I'm making light of it, but this situation, for me, serves as a reminder that how we invest our time, even inadvertently, becomes our reality. Never mind the haunting feeling I have that that same time investment is responsible for the development (or lack thereof) of any talents or gifts they might have—it's all well and good to have a talent for such and such, but that talent will amount to nothing without a corresponding time investment.

Far beyond being a simple investment with a return, time (or, more specifically, how we spend it) defines us. Recently, someone called me a 'blogger,' and it was like a slap in the face...well, that's a bit dramatic, but my thought was, 'Whoa. Back the truck up. Like, yes, I may engage in some blogging activity from time to time, but that does not make me a 'blogger.' But the fact of the matter is that when you start the engage in any “thing” on a regular basis, you, by proxy, become a “thing-er”. Like if you invest your time into teaching, people will probably call you a “teacher,” or if you spend enough time singing, eventually you'll have to accept the title of “singer.” How you spend your time, outside of what is strictly functional (few have ever bragged that they are a “toothbrusher”), becomes who you are, how you will be remembered, how people will describe you, and ultimately how you will describe yourself. And there is some heavy weight in that.

So I've decided that I dislike any theory without any practical application, so here's where I've decided to go with this...Next time you have a moment like one of those I've described, where you find yourself wondering 'why am I wasting my time registering/doing such-and-such?' or 'I really should start putting some effort into my musical pursuits,'--consider that your 'DING-DING reminder that it is time for an investment review (I know, groan, but you'll be glad you did it once it's done). And here's how I propose you do it...

Pick a few “thing-er”-type descriptors as your time investment goals for yourself or your family. I'm going to pick three for myself:

1. Listener

2. Musician-er

3. Blogger

And then start to consider how you will invest/reinvest your time to become those things. Maybe, it will be a small change to your personal behaviour, maybe you will want to register for a class or sign up for a league, maybe it will be designating Monday nights as X-night, or maybe even just bringing these goals up to a more conscious level will be enough. That's up to you. And if you're like me and find that you simply don't have time to spare for investment, consider the flip side of the coin. Pick a few descriptors that you'd rather not have surface in your eulogy and steal a bit of time from those areas. Now if you'll just control your inner Jenny-Judgie, I will pick:

1. Candy-crusher

2. Reality tv-watcher

Now, maybe your time investment portfolio is more-than-satisfactory to you, but that begs the question? What are you doing reading this article? Just kidding. But my feeling is that if you can get to a place where you are satisfied with your time investments, there is no reason that you can't be as 'rich' as Bill Gates himself.

Life-the Snapshot Theory

A few months ago, someone warned about the of perils of a webcam. Apparently, if I don't shut down my computer, people can watch me in my own home! OOOooooo. I challenge anyone to do this and stay conscious for a full ten minutes, because even if my webcam had legs and could follow me around, this is what you would see...

Adele washes a plate, puts it in the second sink. She dries her hands and hangs the towel. O! O! She is going outside! Adele places the sprinkler in the backyard, picks a wedgie, and rounds the side of the house to turn on the hose. She returns to the backyard and runs in to reposition the sprinkler (AKA the I'll-get-you-before-you-get-me-dance). She goes back to the side of the house and increases the pressure. She checks the backyard one last time and, seemingly satisfied, goes inside. Adele takes off her sunglasses and sets the stove timer. Adele takes out a mug, and fills the kettle...Shall I go on?

Can I ask? Am I missing something? Is everyone else engaging in compelling, oscar-worthy (possibly illegal?), activity in their homes on a regular basis in view of their webcam? Because, if so, I want in!

To be clear, if you are really struggling with the inability to not only stop performing lecherous acts in your own home, but also the propensity to (accidentally) publicly broadcast them, I am not making light of this. You should probably get that figured out. BUT the reason I bring this up is that I think there is something much more prevalent and comparatively dangerous than being able to see life in real time on a webcam. And that is this...

In this day and age of social media and, with all the gadgets that make this possible, we are constantly bombarded with 'snapshots' of people's lives—people we know well, people we 'keep in touch with', celebrities, even people we don't know. And these 'snapshots' come from all the corners of life—pictures of weddings, selfies with Machu Pichu in the background, our kids heavily made-up and dressed up as a frog for the dance recital, pictures of people finishing triathlons, happy faces at a family get-together, even pictures of healthful and amazingly aesthetic culinary creations. Though these types of images are not necessarily unique to the digital age (except maybe the ones of food, I doubt there are many polaroids of fish tacos), the accessibility to these snapshots is vastly increased. Now, maybe this all seems harmless to you, but if you were to pit these 'snaphot' images against the comparable webcam footage, I think you will find an interesting pattern.

Here are a few examples...

SNAPSHOT: The perfect baby face sleeping peacefully against a mother's chest held snuggly there by a trendy print fabric baby wrap (organic cotton sourced locally from a single mom refugee who donates 50% of her profits to endangered pandas—I know because the status told me as much).

Webcam Footage: 20 minute close-up of my perplexed face watching “How-to wrap your baby” videos on YouTube, followed by another 20 minutes of an increasingly sweaty me trying to wrap the god-forsaken thing around a screaming baby, all the while fearing I am going to break his head off, only to later succeed (I think?) and find the baby is still definitely NOT peaceful. He eventually passes out from exhaustion long enough for us to get a decent shot of him being perfect and me looking competent. (SWISH)

SNAPSHOT: Selfie of a 20 something cheek to cheek with a young Kenyan child proudly displaying a newly purchased wooden giraffe with colourful and obviously foreign market backdrop.

Webcam Footage: 20 something arrives at Nairobi market on air-conditioned tour bus browses the market just long make said purchase and take picture, finds a McDonalds for lunch and returns to comfortable gated hotel paid for on gifted VISA from Mom and Dad.

***WebCam footage of child labourer not available***

SNAPSHOT: Picture of Suzie's well-dressed kids smiling at the table with homemade heart-shaped Valentine's theme sandwich (organic, whole-grain, homemade bread, of course) with a side of garden cucumbers on displayed on colourful plate.

Webcam Footage: Suzie spends her entire morning juggling the making of the organic wholegrain bread with the meeting of demands of the (often screaming) children, threatening to take away tv time if they don't “GET DRESSED ALREADY!”, occasionally running to tend to her garden (fingers-crossed that no one is seriously maimed in her absence), +/- 7000 other small interruptions to her ultimately getting the Pinterest-worthy sandwich on the plate. All for the grand moment where she is able to snap that perfect picture before they tell her they 'hate this kind of bread' and stash the cucumbers on the floor which she will later sweep up whilst scarfing down the scraps of her sandwich cut-outs. Fast-forward 5 hours and it's hotdogs for supper! “YAY!! THANKS MOM!”

If I have not made it painfully obvious, I'm hoping that you are seeing that the pattern emerging here is just how VERY small a part of the bigger picture that 'snapshot' actually is. But, the real problem I see arising from this phenomenon in modern times is a generation of people in hot pursuit of just that—a snapshot—where life has become about the proverbial 'destination' rather than the 'journey.' I'm going to coin this the “Snapshot Effect.” It seems that with increasing frequency, we live in a world where actually living life takes a backseat to getting (and sharing) that perfect snapshot. I once went out with this woman who spent the ENTIRE evening taking selfies and group shots and posting them in real time to Facebook and completely missing the social event unfolding right in front of her. I'm guessing you have a story or two of the like. And I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the 'Snapshot Effect' transcends far beyond the social domain. For instance, I remember the feeling of disillusionment that clouded my early years as a mother, wondering why the hell my parenting reality didn't seem to resemble what I was seeing in the pictures or reading about in people's statuses. Now, I won't be so bold as to point the finger at social media for all of the hiccups I might have experienced as a new parent, but I can't help but wonder how I would have felt differently if my vision of parenting had been created entirely from actual real time contact with other parents minus the bombardment of cutesy snapshots. As another example, I read recently that some crazy percentage (over 50%) of women report feeling “Pinterest-stress” (I know, get a real problem...) but, apparently, just encountering images of attractive crafts, foods, activity ideas causes people to feel like they are falling short, like they should be doing more. And one can't help but wonder why, since the early 2000's, spending on home renovations has increased every single year. People just can't seem to help but pursue what they are seeing in those fancy snapshots, whatever the cost.

Now, I didn't write this to discourage you from relishing and sharing those 'destination' moments—whether that be a photo of the moment you first held your child, or when that diploma is finally placed in your hand, or a picture of your perennials in full bloom if that's your thing—You should celebrate those things. REALLY. YOU SHOULD. And conversely, I am not suggesting that you start sharing 'journey' photos of yourself on the crapper or doing dishes or some such nonsense. Not at all. I am just reminding you, reminding me to be present on our own journey. Maybe this means consciously taking space from social media sites or HGTV, or maybe it means mentally reminding yourself that those snapshots are representative of a moment not a complete reality, I don't know.  But if you, like me, occasionally find yourself falling victim to the Snapshot Effect, I encourage you to make a change of some sort. Most importantly, just remember to also relish and celebrate the everyday stuff, however humble, un-photogenic, or tedious it may seem. Because all of those less-than-picture-perfect moments are not just filler, they are the bulk of our lives and personhood. Somewhere in those hours and hours of webcam footage you became the person you are in those snapshots—a mother, a professional, a traveler, a gardener, a friend. And that is worth more than any one moment you will ever be able to capture.  

Jonny Depp and a Recipe for Love

I recently came across this quote from Jonny Depp...

“If you love two people at the same time, choose the second because if you really loved the first you wouldn't have fallen for the second.”

Now, I want to make out with Jonny Depp as much as the next person, but I think he got this a bit wrong actually. I could get all indignant and plead that of course the feelings for the second are greater because, by virtue of the fact that they are second, one has had less time to experience the full gamut of not-so-niceties that come with knowing a partner over a long period of time. But, I think that I can explain my theory more effectively with recipes and math.

Recipe for (romantic) Love

1 cup warm fuzzy feelings

1 cup sharing your life

Generous dollop of hot chili peppers XXX

Now feel free to add cinnamon, strawberries, garlic, whatever floats your boat, but as far as I can tell these are the key ingredients, and it is not romantic love if one is missing. For example, I have warm fuzzy feelings and share my life with my children and even a few of my girlfriends, but these relationships lack hot chili peppers. Or perhaps, one has warm fuzzy feelings for another which leads to the addition of hot chili peppers, but when you think of sharing your life with that person, you warm to the idea of sticking needles in your eye. You get the idea.

To help you better understand this concept, I've created this graph of my own personal research on the subject:

So what valuable information may we glean from this graph, you ask? Well, perhaps one might notice that there were significant lapses in the life-sharing during the earlier years of our relationship when HandsomeManA and I lived apart. Or, one may find it notable that in years 7, 9, and 12, (the years our children were born) there was a corresponding decrease in the frequency of hot chili peppers and simultaneous increase in feelings of warm fuzziness. Or one may see a steady decrease in feelings of warm fuzziness in the early years of our relationship possibly relating to an increase in expressed flatulence (but that deserves its own graph). Now none of this is particularly telling or interesting, but what this very scientific graph does prove is that the mere presence of these three ingredients does not a 'love' make. And the reason is this... What this graph of humps and bumps is unable to show is any significant growth pattern, when, in reality, my love for HandsomeManA increased in magnitude everyday for 14 years.

Well, here's the kicker folks... Every good cook knows that a recipe needs a 'binder' (for those of you who are not culinary geniuses, a binder is the ingredient which holds the recipe together. Eggs to a cake, for example). Without a binder, the recipe just falls apart, and one could try any quantity of the other ingredients but the end result would not stick. In the case of the recipe for love, one might experience a combination of the warm fuzzies, hot chili peppers, and life-sharing time and time again but find that 'love never stuck'. Or in the loosely interpreted words of Jonny Depp, one might find himself choosing to love the forty-second person, assuming that because they once again found the right combination of ingredients, the forty-first recipe was flawed.

Having said that, I do have to applaud Jonny for this—he has included the key ingredient. In the original quote, notice the word “CHOOSE”. That's it, folks... The binder. Choice. I can categorically confirm that my choice to love and continue to love HandsomeManA everyday for fourteen years directly resulted in a love that grew and grew and continues to grow.

Now here's a more telling graph:

As you can see there is a causal relationship between my choosing to love HandsomeManA and the level of hearts in our relationship.

Now whether or not you buy into my Math (I don't know how you couldn't??) or Jonny's more succinct quote, the message is the same. Love is a choice, and, because I happened to come across this last week, I will conclude with what I see as a more comprehensive quote on the matter. This comes from my uncle Ron Rolheiser, “Love is a decision...We find that hard to believe because long before we have to decide for love, we first fall into love. Initially, it chooses us more than we choose it.” And I would add, that in turn, "we must choose it again and again and again.”

Happy Wednesday...

Adele