On a less than memorable episode of The Simpsons, Bart, the hell-raising ten-year-old, is struggling to begin a paper on World War I that is due the next day. Books are piled on his desk. The pen is in his hand, touching the paper (back when kids still wrote essays by hand). He looks around the room and sees an especially inviting book on his bookshelf.

“Oh, algebra,” he says excitedly. “I’ll just do a few equations…”

He then hits himself to refocus.

Everyone finds the gag relatable: a task so difficult or boring, with a deadline looming, where the distraction of doing math equations is not only tempting but preferable.

I have no algebra books in my home, but plenty of other distractions that stand out and glitter like half buried pearls. Laundry that suddenly needs doing or trying to decide which is the perfect way to organize my bookshelves (by color? alphabetically?). There are the kinds of distractions that announce themselves randomly and demand my attention. My son deciding he’s hungry ten minutes after refusing lunch. My mother calling with the vague, dreaded, “are you busy right now?” Making sense of what it was I wanted or was supposed to be doing after all of these detours can take more mental energy than I’m capable of, which means I often leave everything unfinished.

Usually, I’m good at hiding my half-done priorities, but not everything can be swept aside or pushed into a closet. My lawn, for instance, is something everyone can see as the result of these shifting priorities. The grand list of plans to repair and care for my lawn every spring has now increased to where the grounds crew of Yankee Stadium would find it difficult. To get rid of all the overgrown bushes and tree branches would take a full weekend, but didn’t we want to take my son to the aquarium? Wasn’t getting him out of the house and away from the TV important? Mowing the lawn itself takes at least two hours, yet my mother isn’t well enough to go grocery shopping on her own. She can’t go without food, right? I can’t put it off, not when I’m supposed to be seeding all the empty patches and pulling out the dandelions and spraying deer repellent. An unending stream of guilt causes me to lurch one way then another, leaving my lawn a mess, an outward expression of things left half-finished or completely unstarted.

The secret, as we are told by various self-help gurus online and daytime talk show hosts, is to put aside the things that aren’t important and embrace the things that are. This is meaningless gobbledygook that looks good on the kind of cheap coffee mugs you see in greeting card stores. If the slogan was “do what makes you happy,” or “prioritize the good in life!” it would have just as much meaning and probably as much impact. The definition of what makes something important is too vague, too changing. After all, each distraction blares its importance to you like a screaming baby. Rather than limit things to important or not important, the best method for avoiding distractions is to prioritize everything. From restocking the scotch tape dispenser to fleeing a house fire.

Discovering that hierarchy is the real trick, and it is a process. Little children are hardwired to not think about the world around them (as newborns, we think things stop existing when they leave our field of view). When we age, our priorities change. Hopefully for the better, but not always. Some people need a lot of time and experience to help learn what’s most important. And even as you figure it out, the distractions come fast and hard. Every week a person is recommended to watch a new TV show, even though they probably haven’t finished watching the latest hit everyone’s talking about. Then comes the dilemma: should that person stop the old show and pick up the new one? What if they’re someone who never skips a Sunday crossword puzzle? Do they continue to do them and watch TV, knowing they might put off work they brought home from the office? When do they get around to paying bills? Calling up their parents to catch up? All these options just from having one show introduced to us.

By the time you’re a young single adult, it becomes easy to think that whatever makes you happy is what’s important. For a long time, my biggest concern was how to be a rock star even though I spent my high school years playing trombone. Once I was out of college and that dream was as realistic as eating unicorn steaks, I went ahead and started waiting tables. All that mattered to me at that age was whether I would walk out of each shift with enough to pay off the essentials. These consisted of gas, rent, and food, not always in that order. Often the food came from McDonald’s and the refreshments from local bars. But happiness was the goal, not nutrition. As long as I wasn’t too picky about it all, I managed to make it work. I was satisfied.

When I started working as a teacher my own happiness depended on others. Staff members needed help. Students wanted feedback from me. The distractions and the goals I needed to accomplish were so numerous it became dangerous to my career to leave some incomplete. I learned early, though not as early as I should have, to prioritize what mattered without leaving everything undone. There were too many days scrambling to finish lesson planning five minutes before the students walked in. Too many mornings struggling to discuss the merits of The Great Gatsby while feeling far from clear-headed. The less said about the burgers that contributed to my expanding waistline the better. It would be wonderful if people learned this earlier in life. But a lot of people don’t. Some never learn to prioritize at all. Judging by how many people still take on Tik Tok challenges, it stands to reason people are not always acting with their best interests (judging by how many challenges there are, there are never too many distractions either).

The vast majority of people also learn that once you have a spouse or partner and children who count on you, or extended family that needs help, their safety and security becomes the most important thing. Something in my lizard-brain activated once I held my newborn son for the first time, a little voice that said, “This thing matters. It’s counting on you.” After that, my brain took all the stimuli around me and, like a badly kept 90s desktop computer, put everything it receives through a quick analysis: on one side, that nagging distraction that demands attention; on the other, my wife and son.

The system isn’t perfect, of course. Sometimes it says that nagging thing is my son, and my brain therefore questions how long I can go and ignore it. The effect is doubled when the request is something innocuous, like demanding we do the same dinosaur puzzle for the sixth time in a row. (Ignoring him is a generally all-around terrible thing to do – newborns and toddlers have to be dealt with eventually if you ever want to get five consecutive seconds of peace).

Ignoring my responsibilities to myself for too long, like any engine that burns too hard for too long, causes me to crash. When things come up that relate only to me – a new videogame demanding my attention, some of my friends making plans to unwind after work, maybe a free hour where I can sneak in a nap – my systems work on autopilot, telling me to brush them aside. The little voice inside my head will sometimes pipe up: “Yes, you have papers that need grading, but shouldn’t your son have fifty meal options for dinner, just in case?” The messaging gets confusing, and this ultimately hurts everyone else. You should definitely do work for your job, and when it comes to toddlers, falling asleep while playing with blocks means I get a rude awakening when they’re chucked at my head. Sometimes I need a reminder, often from my wife, to take care of myself as well.

Some distractions, like Bart’s algebra, we just can’t help but be tempted by. They fill our head and make us think they need to be done right this second. Giving everything a label of important vs not important rarely helps. By prioritizing things first, especially when helping others, has shown me what matters in my own life. Family first, always. Then myself, my career. Maybe, eventually, some day, my lawn will make it a little higher up the list.

The room was silent, save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall. Every tick resonated with exquisite clarity, accentuating the significance of each passing second, while the echoes reverberated through the stillness of the space. I sat down at my desk, ready to immerse myself in the world of creativity and productivity. My mind brimmed with ideas and aspirations, eager to transform them into reality. But as I poised my fingers over the keyboard, a familiar pang of distraction tugged at my concentration.

Distractions. They seem to infiltrate our lives like mischievous specters, beckoning us away from what truly matters. They come in various forms—internal and external, subtle and overt—constantly testing our resolve and threatening to derail us from our path.

I pondered my own distractions, peering into the depths of my mind. The first one to reveal itself was the siren call of social media. Its allure, a never-ending stream of updates, likes, and comments, was hard to resist. Scrolling through timelines and newsfeeds became an insidious habit, nibbling away at my precious time. Not only did social media offer a constant source of entertainment, but it also provided a platform for comparison. The carefully curated lives of others, adorned with filters and highlights, often left me feeling inadequate and disconnected from my own journey. It was as if every minute spent scrolling was a minute lost, a minute where my aspirations languished in the shadow of someone else’s success.

Then, there was the allure of procrastination, a tempting mistress with countless guises. It cunningly whispered, “You can do it later,” as I found myself lured into the labyrinth of mindless tasks, trivial errands, and endless YouTube videos. Time slipped through my fingers like sand, leaving behind a sense of unease and unfulfilled potential. The act of procrastination, I realized, was not merely a result of laziness or lack of motivation. It was often rooted in fear—an apprehension of failure, of not living up to expectations, or of venturing into the unknown. Procrastination became a comfortable refuge, shielding me from the discomfort and vulnerability that accompanied creative endeavors. It was a defense mechanism, a way to preserve my ego and avoid the possibility of disappointment.

Moreover, the incessant demands of daily life often crept into my thoughts like stealthy thieves. My responsibilities, obligations, and the expectations of others vied for my attention, leaving me feeling torn and overwhelmed. It seemed that the more I wanted to concentrate on my true passions, the more the world conspired to distract me. The weight of societal pressures and the fear of falling short threatened to suffocate my creative spirit. The pressures to conform, to achieve conventional definitions of success, and to live up to the standards set by others created a constant undercurrent of anxiety. It was as if the path I yearned to walk on—my own unique and authentic path—was perpetually obstructed by a multitude of “shoulds” and “musts.”

Meanwhile, the outside world seeped in through the cracks of the windows, teasing me with snippets of life unfolding beyond the confines of my sanctuary. The distant sound of traffic—a constant reminder of the ceaseless activity beyond our walls. The melodious chirping of birds in the garden, once a soothing symphony, now felt like an invitation to daydream, tempting me to abandon my focus and wander into the realms of imagination. Even the benign ticking of the clock, which initially seemed like a gentle companion, gradually transformed into a reminder of time slipping away, exacerbating my sense of urgency and feeding the restlessness within me.

Yet, amidst the cacophony of distractions, I realized that the power to cope and remain focused lay within me. It required a delicate interplay, a skillful balance between self-discipline and self-compassion. I first began by acknowledging the potency of my distractions, treating them not as adversaries but as allies in disguise. Instead of fighting against them, I invited them to the stage and allowed them to perform their mesmerizing routines.

When social media beckoned, tempting me with its endless allure, I came to view it not as a mindless time sink but as a vast playground of ideas and connections. I learned to harness its power in moderation, setting specific time limits, while also surrounding myself with kindred spirits who shared my passion for growth and artistic expression. Engaging in meaningful conversations and collaborations became a source of profound inspiration, fueling my own creative journey. By embracing social media as a catalyst for growth and connection, it transformed from a hindrance into a supportive force.

Even procrastination, once seen as the bane of productivity, took on a new light. I discovered that creative minds need moments of respite and mental incubation. Procrastination became a form of active rest—a deliberate pause to recharge and rejuvenate—knowing that a rested mind could produce better work. I learned to discern when it was a sign of needing rest and replenishment, and when it was a disguise for fear or resistance. By nurturing self-awareness, I could navigate this delicate balance and harness it as a stepping stone towards creative breakthroughs.

However, the demands of daily life remained a persistent challenge. The responsibilities, obligations, and expectations that tugged at my attention threatened to drown out the whispers of my true passions. It was during these moments that I turned to self-compassion and prioritization. I recognized that it was impossible to please everyone or fulfill every expectation placed upon me. I had to discern between what truly mattered to me and what was merely noise in the background.  

Therefore, establishing boundaries was crucial to ensure that my time and energy were directed toward activities aligned with my priorities and values. I consciously limited my exposure to social media, relegating it to designated breaks. I even assigned a specific day for leisurely pursuits, embracing the art of doing nothing without guilt. This structured approach created a sense of order and clarity, empowering me to navigate distractions with purpose and intention. To strengthen my focus, I implemented mindfulness practices. I discovered that by observing my thoughts and emotions with curiosity rather than judgment, I could create a space between myself and the distractions. Meditation and deep breathing exercises became my anchors, allowing me to root myself in the present moment and navigate the tempest of diversions.

Additionally, I found solace in the power of routine. By cultivating consistent habits and rituals, I could reduce decision fatigue and eliminate the need to negotiate with distractions each day. I created a sacred writing space, adorned with inspirational quotes and objects, a sanctuary where distractions were politely asked to wait outside. This physical space served as a tangible reminder of my commitment to my craft, a dedicated haven where focus and creativity could flourish.

However, it wasn’t enough to merely cope with distractions; I yearned to find true meaning in life and forge a path that aligned with my deepest values. I embarked on a journey of self-discovery, questioning the purpose of my existence and the legacy I wished to leave behind. I sought experiences that nourished my soul—nature walks that filled me with awe, conversations that ignited my curiosity, and artistic expression that allowed me to tap into the depths of my being. In the silence of introspection, I discovered that meaning was not an elusive destination but an ever-evolving process. It lay in the pursuit of development, the cultivation of relationships, and the exploration of one’s passions. I realized that true fulfillment came not from external achievements but from embracing the present moment, savoring the small joys, and nurturing the connections that imbued life with purpose.

To move forward on my chosen path, I learned to let go of societal expectations and comparisons. I recognized that my journey was unique and incomparable to others. Each step I took, no matter how small, became a testament to my courage and determination. I celebrated progress, not perfection, and reveled in the beauty of embracing imperfections. Yet, even armed with newfound knowledge and coping strategies, there were moments when doubt and uncertainty crept in, casting shadows on my sense of purpose. In those instances, I reminded myself of the ultimate purpose that anchored me—the deep longing within my soul to create, to express, and to contribute to the tapestry of human experience.

I surrounded myself with reminders of my purpose—a vision board adorned with my dreams, quotes that resonated with my soul, and the stories of those who had walked similar paths: artists, thinkers, and creators who faced their own distractions and emerged stronger on the other side. Their tales reminded me that the pursuit of meaning and the struggle with distractions were universal experiences, shared by those who dared to forge their own paths. In their stories, I found inspiration and guidance, knowing that the challenges I faced were not insurmountable. These reminders became beacons of light, illuminating my way forward and reminding me that the distractions were transient and inconsequential in the grand symphony of life.

Life, I realized, rarely unfolds according to our meticulously crafted plans, and unexpected detours often lead to the most profound discoveries. I discovered that meaning was not a fixed destination, but a continuous voyage—an ever-evolving tapestry woven through the interplay of distractions and focus, challenges and triumphs. It was in navigating this labyrinth that I found purpose, fulfillment, and a deep sense of alignment with my truest self. As I journeyed forward, distractions no longer posed as hindrances but as companions in this dynamic rhythm of life. Their presence reminded me of the inherent ebb and flow, the delicate balance between discipline and surrender, and the ever-present invitation to explore new realms of creativity and growth.

And so, as I sat down at my desk once again, I could feel the words flowing from my fingertips, igniting a profound sense of alignment—a deep connection between my innermost self and the work I was creating. The distractions, once perceived as hindrances, transformed into opportunities for progress and introspection. They reminded me to appreciate the journey, to savor the process, and to find fulfillment in the act of creation itself.

In those moments, I was not just writing; I was living. I was transcending the distractions and entering a state of flow—an effortless immersion in the present moment where time ceased to exist and the outside world faded away. It was through this inner dialogue that I uncovered my true passion and purpose, freeing myself from the grip of superficial distractions.

Can we control time?

Some people say yes, we do, some say possibly, but the reality is we do not and we cannot! Time flows without interruption or interception. We grow, we change, we suffer; time laughs at us. And then comes our end, but time never ends… Controlling time could be possible if we were the creator of time. We make watches, clocks, and bell towers to keep track of time, but none of us is capable of stopping it for a second. Time is beyond our dimensions.

Time management methods

Currently there exist several methods to manage time. Everybody, including Dale Carnegie, suggests several different ways of planning for the best agenda.1-3 One of them¹ is to start with a “personal time survey,” and this helps you with a “study-hour formula,” asking you to prepare a daily schedule on a poster board, or some other surface, while suggesting practicing critical behavior:

“Don’t be a perfectionist”

“Learn to say no”

“Learn to prioritize”

“Combine several activities”

And here we give a “personal time survey” which has been presented as a means to oversee your current usage on an hourly basis:

1. The number of hours of sleep each night

________ X 7 = _______

2. The number of grooming hours per day

________ X 7 = _______

3. The number of hours for meals/snacks per day – including preparation time

________ X 7 = _______

4a. The total travel time, weekdays

________ X 5 = _______

4b. The total travel time, weekends

________

5. The number of hours per week for regularly scheduled functions (clubs, worship, get-togethers, etc.) ________

6. The number of hours per day for chores, errands, extra grooming, etc.

________ X 7 = _______

7. The number of hours of work per week

________

8. The number of hours in class per week

________

9. The number of average hours per week socializing.

Be honest! ________

Now add up the totals: ________

Subtract the above number from

168 – ________ =________ 1

What’s wrong with these systems?

Dale Carnegie passed away tragically. Something was missing in his life, leading him to commit suicide, despite being one of the time management experts for a better life. So, what was really important and what was it that he failed to notice?

The most valid explanation is that the spiritual nature of human beings was not taken into account. Such experts seem to think that if we put things in order externally, our lives will be organized and consequently we will be happy. But evidently, we cannot progress without spiritual satisfaction.

Below are the key concepts in perfect time management:

• Priorities

• Careful organization

• Spiritual needs

Priorities

Since time is immutable, we have to adjust ourselves to the speed of time. We have to list what is important for us and categorize them to see if there are possible combinations for extra time savings. It is truly important in such a concept to know our short term and long term goals, without excluding our needs and any dependants. The first priorities list may not work properly, but sooner or later, we will arrive at the optimum schedule.

Careful organization: A successful agenda

Regardless of our professional lives, every one of us needs sufficient time to relax. Thus, a cleverly organized day is what we should work towards first. Most studies show that a morning-afternoon-evening type division is insufficient to prevent the tediousness of long working hours. Counting every minute is the other extreme, if one desires to be fully organized. There should be some other way to divide up the day in the best way to ensure full-capacity performance.

So glorify God when you reach evening and when you rise in the morning; for all praise is His in the heavens and on earth, and towards the end of the day and when you have reached noon. (Rum 30:17-18).

This succinct daily plan mentioned in the Qur’anic verse above would be a good program if it can be applied (it is important to note here that this verse is not concerned with time management per se).

Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, in his 9th Word,⁴ talks about the meaning of this verse, including how to glorify God. And also he mentions the parts of the day and their corresponding meaning with spiritual insight. He basically divides the day into five parts. A day starts with “early morning,” continues with “just past midday,” “afternoon” follows, and “sunset” leads you onto “nightfall.” By dividing one’s day into spiritual sections, it is possible to review the day and the progress between these parts.

Spiritual needs

Human beings are not animals. They feel, they choose, they live as they want. And they are free to go in any direction. They have a soul that guides their way of living. There are plenty of stories that have unhappy endings solely due to an ignorance of a spiritual life. Time management, of course, is directly related to the spiritual life of the individual; the choices people make are formed in their souls. They desire, they plan, and they implement. Thus, people also need time for their desires, and due to the large number of wishes people have to manage their time. An individual sets their priorities to achieve their goals. But due to the external effects (mostly other people) the schedule of this person changes to the best-suited model. Some people like such changes, but the majority do not. This is actually not very surprising, as human beings have different personalities and characters arising from their spiritual background. Therefore, anything that has an impact on spiritual life has to be important in managing our time.

To have the ability to control our life and to manage our time, we have to look within ourselves and discover what is in our hearts. For example one of my close friends told me that he had been able to experience a highly-ordered daily life when he left home after having read some verses from the Qur’an. He added that in a busy day, with tons of work, he still manages to handle all of it if he reads from the Qur’an at the beginning of the day. But if he doesn’t do this he loses control and everything becomes confused, and his mind jams. What is happening here is that perhaps he is able to clarify his mind by taking a spiritual shower that gives him strong support throughout the whole day.

Once we get into a spiritual flow we will be able to realize that everything has a harmonic rhythm that will help to build our schedule on the path we have anticipated. The key concept is, then, keeping our spiritual life balanced in a way that does not let anything interfere. My friend found the perfect key; this should also be possible for every one of us.

Action plan

Knowing that priorities, careful organization, and spiritual needs are key concepts in time management, one should find the best way for them to succeed. Below is a possible to-do list:

1. Identification of priorities: What is really important for me?

2. Planning the time: How do I like to do things?

3. Feeding your spiritual self: What can help my mind to be perfectly clear?

4. Reviewing the status: Where I am?

To start or give feedback if you have been carrying out a feasible plan you must be able to observe your present course. Prof. Rustu Kalyoncu suggests a plan with 15 MINUTES slices at this point: “Write down what you’ve done for every 15 MINUTES (for a couple days) and criticize how efficient you have been. I promise you’ll find lots of free time waiting for you…”

Notes

1. www.gmu.edu/gmu/personal/time.html
2. www.see.ed.ac.uk/~gerard/Management/art2.html
3. www.tsuccess.dircon.co.uk/timemanagementtips.htm
4. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, The Words, (translated by Sukran Vahide), Sozler Publications, 1998.