ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, May 13, 1996 TAG: 9605140018
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-5 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: Monty S. Leitch
DATELINE: MONTY S. LEITCH
AT A CONFERENCE recently, I heard this story - about a time-management expert who'd led another conference.
He started his lecture with a demonstration. First, he set on a table a huge glass jar. Next, he brought out a bucket of rocks. "Tell me when you think the jar is full," he said to his audience.
Then he began setting the big rocks into the glass jar. When the rocks had reached a level even with the jar's rim, the audience said, "Stop. That jar is full."
"Is it?" asked the time-management expert.
He brought out a bucket of gravel, and began pouring gravel into the jar. The gravel sifted down in among the big rocks. "Now," said the expert, "tell me when the jar is full."
When the gravel, too, had reached a level even with the jar's rim, the audience said, "Now! Now that jar is full."
"Indeed?" asked the time management expert. He brought out a bucket of sand, and began pouring in the sand, which filled in all the tiny places left around the gravels and the rocks.
When the sand had reached a level even with the jar's rim, the audience said, "Now the jar looks full. But you've fooled us before."
And so he had. The time-management expert then brought out another bucket - this one filled with water - and poured even more into the jar.
"Now," he said at last, "this jar is full. What is the point of this demonstration?"
An eager beaver in the audience raised his hand quickly. "The point," he said, "is that there's always room for more!"
"No," said the time-management expert. "The point is this: The big rocks never would have fit if I hadn't put them in first."
Of course, you can't put your big rocks in first if you don't know what your big rocks are.
Last summer in Craig's Creek, I found a creek rock shaped like a shallow bowl. It just fits in the palm of my hand. There's even a little notch on the rim around which I can curl my thumb. I keep it on my desk, and in it I have placed a few mementoes: four smaller rocks from places special to me, a fossilized shark's tooth (a gift from my brother), and a tiny snail shell found on a river bank.
Next to my bowl of rocks, I keep two other rocks: one, a beautiful painted rock that was a gift to me in college, and the other, a smaller polished stone. A classmate decorated the larger rock with my initials, in appreciation for some small favor I no longer remember. I doubt she remembers it either. Her favor to me has lasted years beyond my favor to her. The polished stone was a gift from a writer friend. "For meditation," she said.
Each of these rocks is weighted with particular meaning for me. I've had them on my desk for years. But since hearing the time-management expert's story, my rocks seem even more weighty: messages to myself about priorities I'm prone to forget.
Remember family. Remember to spend time on river banks and seashores. Remember friends, and remember that small favors, given and received, last beyond the moment. Remember the necessity of quiet, call it meditation or prayer. Remember to watch where you step, and remember to name your big rocks.
Always put them in first.
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times columnist.
LENGTH: Medium: 69 lines KEYWORDS: 2DA Type first letter of feature OR type help for list of commands FIND S-DB DB OPT SS WRD QUIT QUIT Save options? YES NO GROUP YOU'VE SELECTED: QUIT NO login: cby CNB