Sixty Minute Family (eBook)

Life Lesson 1:

To Make Time for My Family

I wanted a boy first. I believed we would have a boy first. My wife, Dianne, was having a Caesarean section, and in those far off days they didn’t let fathers within 50 metres of the operating theatre, never mind gown you up and allow you to shout helpful hints to the surgeon. I waited in the corridor outside and finally a nurse came out and said, “You’ve got a lovely daughter.” I smiled, but my heart fell. And then they brought Katie out in a little cot and suddenly another woman walked into my life and I fell in love all over again. I knew at that moment that I was forever smitten. I had a family. I would care for this family, I would provide for it, and, if necessary, I would give my life for it.

So why was it so very hard to give them my time?

Priorities

As I write, Captain Chesley Sullenberger has just crash-landed a US Airways Airbus on the Hudson River. Because of his skill, there were no fatalities and yet the passengers on that plane did not know they would escape death as they took the brace position on that icy winter’s morning. And because they didn’t know the outcome, they did what people do when they think they might die: they use what little time they think they have left to tell those nearest to them how precious they are. One woman told her story, but it could have been multiplied many times over. She said, “As soon as I knew we were in trouble I rang my family on my cell phone to say, ‘I love you.’”

So here’s the dilemma: if family life is so important to us, why, so often, do we fail to give enough time to those we love most?

To find the answer, go back to that plane hurtling at over 100 mph towards the Hudson River. Its passengers believed with all their hearts that time was limited – perhaps to just a few minutes. In those circumstances, they had to decide how to use that time. They had to ask, “What are my priorities?”

They could have chosen to ring clients or customers, the garage about the new car, or perhaps a colleague to put the final touches to that presentation for the meeting tomorrow. But they didn’t. They did what men and women the world over do when they know that time is short: they chose to give the time to their families.

I know what some of you are thinking. You’re saying to yourselves, “But that’s an extreme situation. Anybody would choose family if they knew their time was limited.” But the truth is that our time is limited – we simply don’t realize it.

Families that don’t have time for each other don’t intend to live that way. It’s just that life goes by a day at a time, and because there’s always tomorrow, the problem never seems critical. The people on the plane that day thought there may not be a tomorrow for them, but in our everyday family life we believe the opposite: that there will always be tomorrow.

Our child says, “Dad, can we build that den you promised me?” and we say, “We’ll do it later, Son.” The only problem is that one day when we do have time to make a house out of bits of wood, he’s got other plans. Or perhaps he’s a teenager now and doesn’t want to be seen within 5 miles of us. What a tragedy. Just at the moment when we have time for our children, they’ve learned to say, “Great idea, Dad. But would you mind if we did it later?”

When my son, Lloyd, was a young child he’d always come into the bathroom at about 7:30 a.m. when I was shaving and say, “Tell me a story, Dad.” It was often the last thing I felt like doing – my head would already be spinning with what the day ahead might hold – but usually I managed to stumble out some tale of the school bully who picked on the karate expert by mistake.

I told those stories week in, week out, and down the years. Then one morning as I was putting away my razor and soap, I realized that Lloyd hadn’t come in for his story. I yelled downstairs, “Hey, Lloyd, do you want a quick story?” He shouted back, “No thanks, Dad – I’m playing with Kate. Tell me one tomorrow.” I’m sure I told Lloyd stories on other occasions in his young life, but there never was another “shaving tale”. I wish he’d warned me on that cold November morning that it was the last time we’d do it: I would have made more of it.

But don’t start feeling guilty about all of this. We have to live in the real world. There will be some nights when we’re absolutely shattered, and it’s fine to skip pages when we’re reading stories to them. (The trouble is, though, that kids are too clever: “Silly Daddy,” she says, “you’ve missed forty-nine pages.”) But at the same time, it’s as well to remember how fast those doors of childhood close.

Over the past twenty years, especially since writing The Heart of Success, I have spoken to thousands of people about their lives at work. Some have achieved more than they’d ever thought possible, but as they’ve shared the story of their success, it’s evident that they’ve paid an enormous price for it. Sometimes, as they’re approaching retirement, they say: “I’ve achieved all this, but where did my life go?”

The truth is that whether we’re a bank clerk, a doctor, or a firefighter, life is busy. We have to put bread on the table. We can’t always give our families all the time we would like to. Nevertheless, if we’re to have a hope of giving our family as much time as we can, there are some “Time Myths” we have to deal with.

Myth Number 1:
It’s All a Matter of Organization

We sometimes read in the press of people who say that balancing the demands of work and family life is simply a matter of organization. They seem to be able to run high-powered careers, sit on the boards of various charitable organizations, read stories to their kids each night, and bake cakes that would make Jamie Oliver want to take cooking lessons.

But it’s not just a matter of organization. The truth is that every choice we make as to how we use our time precludes another choice that we might have made. The old saying is true: “If you do this, you can’t do that.” Simply put, the idea that you can have it all and do it all is an illusion. Supermum or Superdad is not out there. You can wear your underwear outside your trousers, but you still can’t fly.

Myth Number 2:
One Day We’ll Have More Time

I’ve had hundreds of conversations, particularly with men, during which they’ve said something like this to me: “We got married and I worked hard to give my family the best I could. I did well in my job. I didn’t have much time for my family, but I believed that would come later. We’ve enjoyed a reasonable lifestyle – perhaps a very good one. Now I’m fifty and I want to spend time with my children, but the truth is they really don’t want to know. It’s not that they don’t love me; it’s just that their lives are busy now. It seems that my children, and even my partner, have learned to live without me. In some ways I feel cheated.”

Of course, this lifestyle is not often one that is chosen deliberately. It is rather that we live it, promising ourselves that we’ll have more time one day. We say, “Next week will be a little quieter…” or “When I get promoted/when the exams are over/when this big job is out of the way/when I’ve finished decorating the living room/when I move to the new office… I’ll have more time for the family.” If you take nothing else of value from this short book, at least take this: a slower day is not coming. If you have anything that matters to you, try to give some time to it – today.

Myth Number 3:
We Have to Work Long Hours to Give Our Kids the Best

Most of us want to provide for our children as well as we possibly can. But we should be careful. Someone has summed up the pitfall well: “We are so busy giving our kids what we didn’t have, we don’t have time to give them what we did have.”

But even when we’ve dealt with the myths, finding that time is still not easy…

The Time Supermarket

A vast supermarket opens up in your area, but instead of food and drink it sells ways you can spend your life. Instead of money, the currency is time. And instead of Bakery, Meat, and Fruit and Veg, the departments in the store are Jobs and Careers, Hobbies, Television and Audio, Social Life, Sleeping, Eating, Personal Hygiene, and Family.

On the day your first child is born, you are invited to the store. The supermarket manager takes you into his office and tells you the rules: “Each week you must come to the store to spend your time. You are allocated the same amount of time that is given to every person, rich or poor: 168 hours per week.”

“That sounds a lot,” you say. “What if I don’t spend it all?”

The manager smiles. “There’s never been a person in the history of the world who did not spend it all.”

You shrug your...