Essentialism: Choosing problems

Although we often think we can, there is no world in which we can actually do everything. Regardless of how disciplined I am, doing everything is not an option.

So I get to choose what I do.

When an idea comes to my head (which is pretty frequent), I have to choose. When I feel useless at work, and 1000 things come to mind about how I can be effective elsewhere, I still have to choose which to do.

(This ineffectiveness at work often leads to lots of other ideas. It’s a form of learned helplessness. And people either react by doing nothing, or doing too much (in the attempt to stop feeling helpless, although this actually exacerbates the problem).) Aside: this could be how my tiny house and food forest projects got started.

With all of the things I could do, which should I do? This is a question I should be asking myself. Which thing is essential?

And then all my other actions become a way to accomplish either that one task or teach me things that help me accomplish that one thing.

During my first year of university, my girlfriend asked me a question that was deeply affecting her: “What is the point of this?” (This == our relationship.) As background: we had initiated the relationship with full understanding it would end (yes, we actually put that in writing before we started dating each other exclusively (I’m a practical romantic, what can I say?)) due to a religious commitment I had coming up 8 months later.

She saw the end, and wondered at the futility of the exercise. “If it’s only going to end, why not end it now?” At the time I was probably more wise than I am now (now I would have said, “Yep, you’re right. Time to move on.”) and I said “To learn.”

Experience (even if transitory) is a reward. Experience informs our ability to act in the future and helps us develop the lenses through which we view the world.

The relationship did end. She married while I was fulfilling my commitment, and she has 5 children now. I think (if nothing else) she had a positive experience dating me for the remaining months. (We’ve never attempted to discuss the outcome of that discussion.)

The relationship (and especially in the following months) taught me many lessons that made me more effective in my religious commitment immediately following, and has made me a better man in the 14 years since it happened.

My life fundamentally changed because of the several months I spent in that relationship after the discussion.

I suppose I digress. The point of all of this is: for me, the religious commitment was my priority. It was essential. And the relationship was a way to learn skills that would help me fulfill my commitment.

What I experienced after, and what I draw on now (as I attempt to focus on my priority) is how each other thing I must do teaches me lessons that will be useful in accomplishing my priority.

What problem do I want?

Only the ones that lead me forward to accomplishing my priority.