In a few weeks, many of us will turn our clocks back and, at least according to the clock, gain an hour. I love the idea of suddenly having an extra hour. But I also know what my first instinct would probably be:

Great. What can I get done with it?

And that made me wonder: Why is my first instinct to fill it?

What would you do with another hour?

Would you sleep a little longer? Take a walk? Read? Spend it with someone you care about? Or would it simply get absorbed into everything else already competing for your attention?

When More Becomes the Answer

So much of our lives seems shaped by not having enough time.

• I don't have time to learn that right now.
• I'd like to reach out to that person, but I haven't had time.
• I know I need to think about what's next, but there just isn't time.

Sometimes that's true. Workloads are real. Family responsibilities are real. There are seasons when our capacity is stretched and there simply isn't much room left.

But I've also noticed how often our response to not having enough time is to add something else.

A better calendar. Another checklist. A new app. A productivity system. A new routine.

I'm a list maker. I use a calendar. I like systems that help me keep track of what needs to happen. But at some point, the systems designed to help us manage our work can become more work to manage.

Every addition makes a claim on something that was already there.

And that claim isn't always measured in minutes. A new commitment requires attention. A meeting may require preparation and follow-up. A new goal competes with another priority.

Something that occupies only 30 minutes on our calendar may take much more of our mental energy.

What Could I Take Away?

I've been experimenting with this idea in my own work, particularly in the classroom.

For years, when I had more time available, my instinct was often to add more content to the class sesssion. Another slide. Another example. Another concept I wanted students to understand.

Lately, I've been trying to do the opposite.

Instead of asking, What else can I fit in?

I'm asking: What could I take away and what might that make room for?

Sometimes fewer slides create more room for conversation. Less content gives me more time to check for understanding. A pause gives students an opportunity to make connections rather than simply moving on to the next idea.

I'm not necessarily doing less. I'm choosing to use the time differently.

Sometimes the thing we need to subtract isn't the task.

It's the expectation we've attached to it.

Maybe I've been thinking about time too often as a constraint. Something to manage, schedule, protect, save or run out of.

Those structures are useful. But they can also leave us feeling bound by time rather than thoughtful about how we're using it.

Time is also an asset. 

An asset doesn't have to be filled. It can be invested. That small shift changes the question for me.

Instead of How do I fit more in? I can ask: What deserves this hour?

Maybe it's finishing an important project. Maybe it's learning something new. Maybe it's investing in a relationship. Maybe it's thinking rather than doing.

And maybe, occasionally, the best use of an hour is leaving some of it unclaimed.

Making Room

When the clocks change this fall, I know I won't really receive another hour.

But I'm going to try not to think first about what I can fit into it.

Instead, I want to ask myself:

• What is taking more of me than it deserves?
• What could I stop, shorten, simplify or do differently?
• What would I like to make more room for?

The purpose of subtraction isn't simply to do less. It's to be more intentional about what gets our time, attention and energy.

So, when that “extra” hour arrives, perhaps the question isn't what else we can squeeze into it.

Perhaps it's simply:

What deserves this hour?

And maybe, occasionally, the answer will be:

Nothing yet.