Confluence
by kyle on Aug.20, 2010, under General
I’m trying for the umpteenth time to implement the principles from David Allen’s “Getting Things Done”. It’s a system for keeping track of obligations and projects, and while I’ve initiated the attempt several times in the past, I’ve never really followed through.
One of the main principles of GTD is to get all the “have to”, “should”, and “want to” items out of your head and into a trusted system that you’ll check regularly. Otherwise they keep floating around in the back (or forefront) of your mind and distract you from being able to focus on specific things you could and should be doing.
Allen defines a “project” as anything that will take more than one step to accomplish, and another principle of GTD is that you can’t really “do” a project – at any given time, you can only do one piece of the project. So he advises thinking about any given project and then identifying the “next action” that will move the project along. Doing so provides a sense of focus in the moment, without thinking or worrying about things which can wait or aren’t yet actionable.
So it was in that mental context that I read this morning’s “Deeper Walk” email devotional from Relevant magazine. The topic was “Simple Obedience”, and here’s an excerpt:
I want God to wave the magic wand and make me whole again. So far, He hasn’t. God will help me. God will guide me. But, as far as I can see, He plans to only tell me the next step, the next truth. The how and the where and the when of my redemption cannot be my concern. The question for me is this: When God speaks, will I obey?
I’m amazed and humbled when Big Concepts come together from disparate directions, like a light bulb clicking on inside my head. May I focus on what I can do TODAY, and not worry so much about tomorrow.
Precious time, less than worthy pursuits
by kyle on Jul.30, 2010, under General
Last evening I spent a whole lot of time on things that, in the grand scheme of things, really don’t matter.
For a while now I’ve been toying with the idea – and resisting the urge – of upgrading my cell phone to something newer, sexier. I currently have a Palm Treo 755p, the final Treo running the venerable PalmOS. I’ve had a PalmOS device of some kind since the mid-90s. In all honesty, the Treo is working just fine. It runs the Palm apps I’ve accumulated over the years. It has a rudimentary web browser. It allows me to make and receive calls, and to send and receive texts.
Yet I found myself driving to the Verizon store to look at phones. I currently have a grandfathered monthly plan from the Alltel days, and a sweet employee discount that was also grandfathered (probably beneath the notice of Verizon). So I was curious/concerned about whether switching phones would require changing plans, whether I would be able to keep my discount, etc. I waited 20 minutes in a mostly empty Verizon store before a salesperson came over to help me. By that time I had scoped out some phones and gained some hands-on experience of them. The salesperson couldn’t answer my questions and concerns to my satisfaction, so I left.
When I got home, rather than putting the issue aside, I called Verizon’s toll-free number to pose the same questions. I did eventually get a fairly helpful representative named Elizabeth, but that exploration led to a discovery of an anomaly on my forthcoming bill. Sorting out that anomaly took 20 minutes in and of itself. Then we spent another 20 minutes sorting through the what-ifs of changing phones/plans.
By the time I got done, I had spent nearly 2 hours of my life on the question of potentially replacing my phone, when my current phone really works OK. Technology, and the time spent chasing/acquiring/learning/troubleshooting it, can be a curse. There are thousand ways I could have better spent that 2 hours: attending to some overdue house cleaning, reading a worthwhile book, catching up with a friend.
Did I end up replacing my phone? Yep, it’s on order. Will I spend precious time learning to use it – time I could spend on more worthwhile things? Undoubtedly. Will I ever learn to be content with what I have? Lord, I hope so.










