What would you do if you had one week left?
Interesting question?
(Disclaimer: I’m not trying to lead the witness. I haven’t got one week left to live. Or if I do, no one’s told me.)
It certainly isn’t terribly original.
Nor is it a question that we relish thinking about, either. It tends to get thrust upon us whenever someone we know well or love is faced with a a sentence of, ahem, one week. Or thereabouts.
And on its own, it isn’t even a very useful question.
Mainly because it’s just one of a family of questions we could ask.
Eh?
Well for starters, how do you know it’s just one week? What if you’ve got just a day? Or two weeks? Or six? The timeframe changes the scope of what’s possible.
Health professionals who tell terminally ill patients how long they’ve got left, are about as accurate as weathermen, or economic forecasters. They’re always wrong.
What they are generally right about is the order of magnitude of time remaining, ie hours, days, months. (Key word there: generally.) But the precise number? Wrong. Always wrong.
We don’t hold that against them, of course. We intuitively understand that. Mostly we’re just grateful that they gave us a forecast at all. Human beings prefer false information to no information, after all.
So the question, What do you do with your remaining time when you’re told it’s just one week? is really pointing to a better question.
A better question. Ah. Always a good move.
And the better question, of course, is: What’s really, really important in life, and ARE YOU DOING IT?
Even that isn’t terrific, because it’s so abstract, and we don’t relate well to abstract circumstances.
And we are oh, so very good at fooling ourselves.
So better yet is to ask our original question, but tweak the time interval. Strategicailly.
So, for example, What do you do when you have just one minute left?
For my part, assuming I still had my wife and family within earshot, I’d tell them I loved them, I’d thank them for enriching my life (and that they certainly have). And with that, I imagine I’d be out of time, so I would turn my full attention to my Destiny and The Master of It. I’d hate to greet my Master with a look of surprise on my face.
OK, so that’s the One-Minute interval done. Let’s say now you have 10 minutes left.
Well, that widens the scope a little bit. I’d probably be able to dictate a few words of encouragement, some advice, maybe some instructions even, to specific individuals you want to remember. I can think of one or two good trusted friends I’d want to remember in this way.
Not too many, now. You’ve only got 10 minutes. Or maybe you’d choose some entirely different action that to you is even more vital.
OK, that’s 10 minutes. Now one hour. I might send a few emails to a few more friends.
Then a day. A week. Now I’m probably reading a book or two. Really good books. Books of truth, wisdom, and principles. No fluff.
A month. 6 months. Now I’m writing, blogging, vlogging, etc. Guess why you’re reading this.
1 year, 5 years, etc etc.
I have literally gone through this thought experiment myself, and written up my conclusions in a document that I review periodically.
As a result, I regularly tell my wife I love her. She will have no doubt of that should anything sudden and terrible happen to me.
I meditate, pray, and scribble in my journal almost daily. The contents in that journal will be of great interest and encouragement to those I leave behind. And to me. I periodically read through my old journal entries, and I am regularly stunned to find words of wisdom therein. Whose mind came up that? Mine? Really?
I also work at renewing (and staying in) contact with old friends. All those cliche’s about friends and wine are true. I had a lot of rouch edges when I was younger. For the friends I made who overlooked them, I am exceeding grateful.
I’ve gotten back into blogging, and I’m slowly working at vlogging as well.
The astute observer and amateur philosopher will have immediately recognised that this thought experiment is really just an intelligent application of Parkison’s Law: Work expands to fill the time available for it. (And by implication, Constrain time to focus on the vital and important.)
And whie it’s incredibly useful, this experiment has its limitations. It allows you to identify the Evergreen Vital Few things, ie those choices that will always be vital no matter what the timeframe.
But not all the Vital Few are evergreen.
Eating, for example. Pretty insignificant if you’ve only got one day left.
One month, or year? All of a sudden, Eating has risen up the pecking order a bit. (If it doesn’t, in fact, you’ll find yourself pretty quickly back in the one-day or one-hour scenario . . . . )
Same goes for Money. And Health. And Influence.
That’s when another thought experiment becomes quite useful.
Stay tuned for that one.
