where the magic happens.
The other night the Child had a meltdown of sorts.
It wasn’t either of our best days, a few misplaced words turned into an explosion of words and only hours later did we both entirely calm down.
(Charming, proving canines are indeed smarter than humans, ran downstairs and “hid” on the couch until all was happy again.)
Later, as we readied for bed, the Child asked if I was angry at her for throwing a fit.
I’m not angry, I responded.
I’m sad you wasted my time as that’s the most valuable thing I have to give.
the calm after the storm.
A few days later a brand reach out to me about sponsorship.
They asked for a conference call first and I agreed.
90 minutes & no contract later I hung up the phone.
Less than being disappointed, however, I immediately had the same thought I’d had after the Child’s meltdown:
I’m annoyed. They wasted my most valuable commodity: time.
Slowly a theme emerged.
Yes, we require food, shelter and money to live,” I thought. “Yet, in a sense, that’s the easy stuff.
Rachel giving me the gift of her time…
Money could be earned & re-earned (I’ve no fear of hard work. I’ve had whacky jobs through the years. I’ll do what it takes to survive.).
Time? Once it was used up—it was gone.
There’s no way–no matter how much of the money you have–to replace wasted time.
Of course, while time as currency was a new thought for me, others had already captured it perfectly:
I’ve decided to tweak the Thoreau quote and use as a personal mantra of sorts.
- When I’ve been asked to bid on a work contract (Why yes $XX might sound a tad high for a bid, yet given the amount of life I exchange for it the rate is *spot on* for me.).
- When I’ve been asked to volunteer at school (Why yes I can come that day. I’d love to exchange my time for the experience in the classroom!).
- When I’ve stopped and considered how I spend my time (Why yes. I only have a little left for today and BRAVO sounds like the perfect place to spend it.).
The price of anything is the amount if life you exchange for it.
I’d moved away from the glorification of busy yet hadn’t realized the cost behind everything I choose to do was my time.
I say this with more regularity now.
I’m frequently asked for advice with regards to freelance writing and professional blogging.
As I adopt my new mantra I’ve learned the answer to how much I charge is, for me, as clear-cut as this:
What I charge for my services is the amount of life it costs me to complete the job.
It’s as simple, complicated and highly personal as that.
- Have you stopped to consider *time* as your most valuable resource?
- Do you react as I do when your resource is wasted?