The following statements are true: 1) Everyday, you make decisions about how to use your time. 2) Each decision represents a choice of doing one thing rather than an alternative. 3) You choose to pursue the things you consider important. 4) Each day, you do the things you considered most important.

We can all agree on the first three items, but the fourth may not be so obvious. You make time for what’s important. That shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. What’s surprising is you may not realize what you consider important.

Think about your day. Think about what you did. Those things are what you opted to do instead of your other options. Those are the things you considered most important today.

Do you disagree? Did you have to be at work all day when you’d rather have been at the lake? Were you busy with kids while you’d rather have had time to relax? I get your point, but you didn’t have to do either of those things. You chose to go to work because it was more important than not having your job. You didn’t have to stay home with your kids. You could have left them with your spouse or a babysitter, but you chose to not be that kind of parent. The choice is always yours. Unless you are in jail or under the age of 18, you are free to do what you want. No one is making you do anything.

We all have the same 24 hours each day to accomplish the things we deem worthy of our time. We all have our routines. We all have our scheduled activities. What’s interesting is when our time is compressed. When life changes and there is no longer room for everything, decisions have to be made. What do you choose to do with your limited time?

This isn’t a lecture. Rather, it was a personal revelation. Prior to the birth of my son, life was flexible. My hobbies consisted of writing in the morning and working out in the evenings, and there was ample time for both. That changed when I became a father. My son removed every piece of slack in my day. The restless nights bled into erratic mornings where our household tasks had increased five fold. The evenings were chaotic and highlighted by a taxing two hour routine of dinner, bath, and bedtime. I wanted to be a participant in all of it. This schedule became my new priority which meant anything else had to be worked around it.

My alarm went off at 5:30 AM each morning. This was my time to write and I’d carved this space for myself years ago. With a new baby, this was no longer sufficient. I was no longer in direct control of when my day started. The sleep pattern of our new child was sporadic and too often cut my writing short. I needed more time and the only way to get it was to start earlier.

As busy as the mornings had become, the evenings were more demanding. In conjunction with unconditional love and a new appreciation for life, babies also gift you an extended bout of crippling anxiety. Fueled by sleep deprivation and parental stress, your emotional state borders on insanity. The mother is the one who typically bears the brunt of these side effects and my home was no different. By 5:00 PM, my wife was ready to throw our son at me the instant I pulled in the driveway. Our witching hour lasted well over 60 minutes and was a proverbial shit show of tears and outburst. By the time the baby was fed, bathed, and put down, my wife and I were spent and our day was over.

I was faced with the realization experienced by every new parent: kids throw a big wrench in your plans. I loved being a dad and took pride in every responsibility that came with it. But, I also needed to preserve the other important things in my life.

In the mornings, my alarm changed to 4:50 AM. It wasn’t a big change, but the extra minutes were enough to absorb the morning chores and leave me 40 minutes to write before my son awoke. Of course, the allocation of time is a zero sum game. When you spend more time on something, you spend less time with something else. These extra 40 minutes in the morning meant I slept that much less each night. At a time when sleep was at a premium, this was a sacrifice.

As my evening hours had been repurposed, I also had to find a new time to work out. After work wasn’t an option and my mornings were already accounted for. This left lunch. I’d tried this before and despised working out midday. It was an irritating process. The logistics took more time than the actual workout. Based on travel, changing, and shower time alone, a 75 minute round trip gym excursion provided for 20 minutes of exercise. It was a big hassle for such a brief workout.

The new schedule was far from ideal. I needed more than 40 minutes to write in the mornings. It usually took 15 to 20 minutes just to get the creative process cranked up. It was infuriating to stop just 20 minutes later. The same could be said for my workouts. Twenty minutes was not a lot of time. Rushing my way through a session removed a great portion of the enjoyment.

I wasn’t thrilled with my new schedule. Far from it. But, I kept coming back to a simple question: Did I want to do these things or not? They were extracurricular, non-essential activities. If I dropped both of them, no one would know the difference. The choice was mine. Did I want to write or not? If so, I had 40 minutes a day to do so. Was working out important to me? If so, I had to get it done in 20 minutes.

No matter how busy you get, you’ll always make time for the important things. You just have to decide what’s important.