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The Currency of Our Livesby Patti L. Auber, published November 2012
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My life is spent five minutes at a time.
When I approached my 65th birthday, it occurred to me that I probably would have about a thousand weeks left in my life. A thousand weeks would be roughly 20 years. The age of eighty-five, more or less, seemed a reasonable life expectation, given my genes and family history. My grandmother died at 84; my mother at 78, although her life was shortened because she smoked. A thousand weeks. And the countdown clock started the second week of March 2012.
Now, I’m not expecting as much as 20 years, nor dooming myself to only 20 years. But it does seem a reasonable framework to work from when considering how I will spend the rest of my time on earth. And although I talk in terms of weeks and years, the reality is that I live my life in smaller segments of five or so minutes most of the time. Well, perhaps “live” is not the right way to designate it. Truer would be to say that my life, like a block of granite under a sculptor’s hands, is chipped away in small chunks that fall around me like granite dust. And like a sculpture, when too many chips have been gouged out, what is left may ultimately be formless, devoid of any beauty or purpose or meaning.
Because I still have a job, a large chunk of my week is spent in that endeavor. And of course, I must sleep some. Another pretty big chunk. The time that is left me is small. So five minutes is significant.
Is that how the balance of my thousand weeks should be spent? The universe is telling me not. And I have been struggling with that—the push and pull between “should” and “ought.” My own personal struggle against the botherization of existence. You see, we are all born with the same amount of currency to spend on this planet—and that currency is every day of our lives. From birth to death. I pay for my life with my life. And pay is the correct terminology. I have paid for everything I have with my whole life! We have all paid for whatever our life is at this moment with every day we have lived so far. Look around you at how you have spent your currency. Has it been worth it? Is anything missing? Something that you need or want, but haven’t allocated the currency for? That’s what I’ve been asking myself as I begin to phase out of my “day job” and have begun thinking about what I want to do next.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. There is much I have “bought” with my life that has been a good investment. I have wonderful children and grandchildren. I’ve been fortunate that my work-for-pay has been something that I have a passion for, and that I’m pretty good at. I have a comfortable house that is my sanctuary and a place of peace and harmony for me and my friends. I have so much to be grateful for.
But the universe is telling me that I have been neglecting an important part of my necessary soul work. True, I was busy—being a single mother, supporting a family, building some security. All valid and valuable, and not something I would change at all. But those things are done. And there is this other woman in there who wants to get out now. Who demands to be listened to. What should I focus my attention on now? Which of my gifts should I be bringing to the world in ways I haven’t so far? I haven’t been spending enough life currency in areas that are important for helping me expand my understanding of who I am, and why I’m here. That work needs time, and can’t be done in small time chips. And the universe is telling me that time is running out. Well, not in so many words, of course. But I have been feeling this strange sense of urgency.
No matter what stage of life you are in, you may be facing similar questions. Ask yourself what you would do if there were no barriers. What would you spend your life currency on if money, time, knowledge, commitments, or fear were not an issue? What calls out to you from the deepest secret longings of your heart? I have begun a journey to explore the possibilities of answering those longings with this next stage of my life. I invite you, dear reader, to join me. Let us journey together on the road to our authentic life.
When I approached my 65th birthday, it occurred to me that I probably would have about a thousand weeks left in my life. A thousand weeks would be roughly 20 years. The age of eighty-five, more or less, seemed a reasonable life expectation, given my genes and family history. My grandmother died at 84; my mother at 78, although her life was shortened because she smoked. A thousand weeks. And the countdown clock started the second week of March 2012.
Now, I’m not expecting as much as 20 years, nor dooming myself to only 20 years. But it does seem a reasonable framework to work from when considering how I will spend the rest of my time on earth. And although I talk in terms of weeks and years, the reality is that I live my life in smaller segments of five or so minutes most of the time. Well, perhaps “live” is not the right way to designate it. Truer would be to say that my life, like a block of granite under a sculptor’s hands, is chipped away in small chunks that fall around me like granite dust. And like a sculpture, when too many chips have been gouged out, what is left may ultimately be formless, devoid of any beauty or purpose or meaning.
Because I still have a job, a large chunk of my week is spent in that endeavor. And of course, I must sleep some. Another pretty big chunk. The time that is left me is small. So five minutes is significant.
- 5 minutes to put in a load of laundry, unload the dishwasher, change the sheets on my bed.
- 5 minutes to tidy up a room, feed the cats, go through the daily mail, fill up the gas tank in the car.
- 5 minutes to scramble some eggs and make toast, sort the recyclables, take the trash to the curb, fold and put away laundry.
Is that how the balance of my thousand weeks should be spent? The universe is telling me not. And I have been struggling with that—the push and pull between “should” and “ought.” My own personal struggle against the botherization of existence. You see, we are all born with the same amount of currency to spend on this planet—and that currency is every day of our lives. From birth to death. I pay for my life with my life. And pay is the correct terminology. I have paid for everything I have with my whole life! We have all paid for whatever our life is at this moment with every day we have lived so far. Look around you at how you have spent your currency. Has it been worth it? Is anything missing? Something that you need or want, but haven’t allocated the currency for? That’s what I’ve been asking myself as I begin to phase out of my “day job” and have begun thinking about what I want to do next.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. There is much I have “bought” with my life that has been a good investment. I have wonderful children and grandchildren. I’ve been fortunate that my work-for-pay has been something that I have a passion for, and that I’m pretty good at. I have a comfortable house that is my sanctuary and a place of peace and harmony for me and my friends. I have so much to be grateful for.
But the universe is telling me that I have been neglecting an important part of my necessary soul work. True, I was busy—being a single mother, supporting a family, building some security. All valid and valuable, and not something I would change at all. But those things are done. And there is this other woman in there who wants to get out now. Who demands to be listened to. What should I focus my attention on now? Which of my gifts should I be bringing to the world in ways I haven’t so far? I haven’t been spending enough life currency in areas that are important for helping me expand my understanding of who I am, and why I’m here. That work needs time, and can’t be done in small time chips. And the universe is telling me that time is running out. Well, not in so many words, of course. But I have been feeling this strange sense of urgency.
No matter what stage of life you are in, you may be facing similar questions. Ask yourself what you would do if there were no barriers. What would you spend your life currency on if money, time, knowledge, commitments, or fear were not an issue? What calls out to you from the deepest secret longings of your heart? I have begun a journey to explore the possibilities of answering those longings with this next stage of my life. I invite you, dear reader, to join me. Let us journey together on the road to our authentic life.