The Time Philosophy
The two questions that decide everything. What is worth my time? Who is worth my time? Answer both, honestly, and the calendar fills itself.
Time is the only currency that does not compound. Every other resource recovers. Time spent is time gone. I have come, slowly, to organise my life around two questions, and I refuse to let any other question outrank them.
Question one: What is worth my time?
Not what is interesting. Not what is available. Not what pays. Worth my time is a higher bar than any of those. It means: at the end of my life, will I look back on this hour and say it earned its place?
The honest answer eliminates ninety percent of the noise. Most meetings are not worth your time. Most podcasts are not worth your time. Most arguments on the internet are not worth your time. Most of your inbox is not worth your time. Most of the things demanding your attention right now are not worth your time.
Question two: Who is worth my time?
The harder version. Most people will accept your time if you offer it — out of politeness, out of habit, out of an old loyalty that no longer fits. But your time is the most generous gift you have, and it should go to the people who give time back: family, the few real friends, the mentees who turn into peers, the colleagues who make you sharper, the strangers who write the kind of email you cannot put down.
If you answer both questions honestly, your calendar slowly empties of should and fills up with would. That is the entire game.
I check both questions every Sunday evening. Most weeks I correct something small. Some quarters I correct something large. The correction is the practice.