Now, you’ve no doubt seen this question circulating amongst the well-intentioned, self-help best-seller bookshelves’ residents for years. It’s pulled out time and again as the ultimate refiner of focus, the samurai sword of the cut-through-the-fluff-ers’ arsenal, the go-to tool of the productivity heroes’ utility belts. Ready?

If you only had six months to live, what would you do right now?

Ta da! Answer that question, and all your troubles will be solved, right?

Well…

Answer that question, yes.

Like Leo says—and I agree with him completely—it can be a great reminder when the minutiae of life starts sucking you down like quicksand. It’s a great question for the moments when you get so fixated on busy-work that you’ve lost sight of what matters to you. It’s also a great question to keep in mind as you’re establishing your life’s priorities and goals, and writing New Year’s Resolutions (assuming anyone still does that anymore), and vacation planning (New Jersey, or Bali? Hmm…).

But, don’t use it when you should be asking something else.

When it comes to planning the vision of your company, this is perhaps the last question you should be asking. Unfortunately, it’s often pulled out in circumstances like this, because it’s seen as the end-all, be-all question. But it’s no Leatherman question, believe me. Why not?

Because this question gives you a view of your life that’s illusionary.

What, are you saying we’re going to live forever? No, silly… at least not physically.

But chances are pretty good that you’re going to be here longer than that… and you’d better plan for it.

If you were only going to live another six months, and knew it ahead of time, do you think you’d be solely concerned with the actions of your business? Hardly. You’d be looking at ways to get in as much family time, quality time, and personal time as possible. You’d be spending your time connecting with the people in your life that matter to you, getting your affairs in order, and maybe slipping in a few once-in-a-lifetime activities. I know I would.

What I wouldn’t be doing is revising my Facebook profile, blogging, twittering (much ), and I darn sure wouldn’t be redesigning my dream website.

Assuming, though, that you are going to be around longer, your questions change considerably. Ask yourself, instead, “If I was going to live another 40, 50, or 60 years, what would I be doing?”

Your answers change, don’t they. They probably change a lot.

Instead of thinking, “Skysurfing over Cozumel,” now you’re thinking, “Change the so-and-so industry,” or, “Expand my business internationally,” or, “Make a difference in the lives of every child in Ghana.” Not that it has to be ultra-grandiose, either… you could be thinking, “Grow my business to where I can sell it/retire in enough time to enjoy my grandkids.” Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what you come up with.

What matters is that you’re thinking about your life, not your endgame.

The problem I have with the six-months-to-live question is that it tends to obliterate the more common reality that you’re going to be here a while. You’ve got a chance to make an impact, in whatever way that matters to you. You’ve got a chance to make something of your self, your life, and your contribution to others.

The balance, of course, is to live for the moment at the same time you’re living for seven generations. Both perspectives are vital, and they aren’t mutually exclusive. You can do amazing things in the time you have, and have amazing times in the things you do. It takes focus, of course… and it also takes a realist’s eye to see where and how to apply it.

So…

If you only have forty years to live, what would you do right now?

Maybe you’d start taking your business more seriously. Maybe you’d take your health more seriously, or think a bit more about the person you share a bed with — or want to. Maybe you’d think of better ways to invest in your relationship with your kids.

Maybe you’d start reaching out and connecting with people more. Maybe you’d revise your Facebook profile, blog about something you love, start twittering (a lot ), and for darn sure, it’d be a good idea to start redesigning your dream website.

Is the ‘six month’ question useless?

Heavens, no. Overused? Probably. But still useful, in the right context, along with the other questions that take into account the much more likely scenario.

The question is, what would you do? Think about both questions, “six months” and “forty years”, and post your first thoughts to the comments, would you? I think it would be really helpful to see what others come up with.

Image by Rickydavid.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 12 comments

Get in line.

- end of post -

Just kidding!

It’s obvious that there’s no one answer to these kinds of questions. It’s a search, an exploration… one that we all take once bitten by the “significance” bug. It’s a part of living an examined, awake life.

The trick is this: it’s one thing to search… and it’s another to stay sane as you do.

Discovering your purpose isn’t a race.

Instead of adopting the attitude of, “I’ve gotta find it NOW, so I can get going and make it happen!”, with a drive for perfection and a now-I-can-stop-searching-and-just-be-happy attitude, you’ll be far better off taking a page from the book of Japanese aesthetics, and more specifically, the concept of wabi-sabi.

What’s known to millions as a philosophy of "imperfection, impermanence, and incompletion" can keep you from ripping the hair from your head as you walk your walk. (and if you’re curious, mine is shaved, not ripped.)

So, with help from Leonard Koren’s book, Wabi-Sabi: for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers, let’s take a look at some of the principles of wabi-sabi, “a nature-based aesthetic paradigm that restores a measure of sanity and proportion to the art of living,” and how they relate to the search for meaning and purpose.

Slow it down

To experience wabi-sabi means you have to slow down, be patient and look very closely.

In the search for purpose and meaning, I’ve seen an agitated frenzy erupt in some people. “I’ve gotta find my purpose! I don’t know what to do without it!”, or, "I can’t believe I’m x years old, and don’t know what my purpose is yet!" But discovering and living one’s purpose isn’t a pop-a-pill-and-be-done, download-it-now experience.

Just like wabi-sabi, your purpose is something that isn’t jumps up, does a dance, and hollers in your face. It’s often times a glacial process, where bits and pieces get uncovered as you go.

Because sometimes, when you stare at something, you miss it.

Instead, slow down, relax, and get in tune with your self — not the self that takes its cues from the world around it, but the you that you are in the absence of external input. The you that yearns to express itself in its own unique way.

Pare it back

Pare down to the essence, but don’t remove the poetry.

Your purpose is most often simpler than you might think. It’s like a mission statement — the longer and more loquacious they are, the less they’re probably saying. Instead, seek simplicity, much like Guy Kawasaki talks about in reference to "making a mantra" in “Art of the Start” (you can download his manifesto which talks about this from ChangeThis). Rather than drone on endlessly about "adding value through optimized ventures and time-honored blah blah blah", the statement of your purpose can be simple and clear, like, “serving children,” or, “expressing uniqueness through design,” or, “creating beautiful moments.” Wabi-sabi speaks of the power of simplicity, and at its finest, so does your sense of purpose.

Simplicity is at the core of things wabi-sabi. The essence of wabi-sabi, as expressed in tea, is simplicity itself: fetch water, gather firewood, boil the water, prepare tea, and serve it to others.

Let it go

Wabi-sabi is exactly about the delicate balance between the pleasure we get from things and the pleasure we get from freedom from things.

If your search for meaning is about getting something tangible, think again. While knowing your purpose and working from it can result in a more successful business (clarity attracts, if you catch my drift), the main reward of inner lucidity isn’t material, it’s spiritual. Fulfillment, more than fame and fortune, is the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

It’s your life, after all

Nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.

You are a work in progress. Your work is a work in progress. And no matter how good it looks, or how much you convince other people (and yourself) that you’ve "got it all together," the simple truth is that you can’t. And the good news is, you aren’t meant to.

Rather than rail against the messiness that continuous learning precipitates (you mean I have to re-write this ‘About Me’ page again?”), you’ll do far better to accept that you are always evolving. As Soren Kierkegaard said, we are “constantly in the process of becoming.” He also said, “Be that self which one truly is.” (Maybe I need to do a post on ‘The Kierkegaard Search For Purpose’…)

At its core, wabi-sabi is, to me, about recognizing the beauty in what is, so you can step back and appreciate what you have all around you. Not a bad prescription, I think.

Images by suika*2008 (out) and d’n'c.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2008. | Permalink | 8 comments