ROCKS IN A JAR

Most motivational speakers give me the willies. Perhaps it's some inborn cynicism that compels me to imagine these high-horse "motivators" to actually be the most un-motivated people in the room when it comes to what's really important in life. Not that I've attended many seminars or read a plethora of self-help books, but I've definitely come across a fair share of them. And when they begin to speak or write, I always picture them holed up in a crummy no-bedroom apartment on the other side of the river, reflecting on what they should have, could have done to make their lives better, thanking the heavens that they met a PR agent or publisher crazy enough to promote their wacky ideas. I don't know why I think these things. But I'll admit that every once in a while a story or an anecdote will breakthrough my grudging resistance and stick in the back of my conscience somewhere.

The following is my rendition of a story I heard somewhere from someone whose name my subconscious has readily omitted from my memory bank. Perhaps some of you have heard it before.

So there's this professor teaching a group of college students a lesson on time management. He stands at the front of the class, and from behind his podium he pulls out a large, wide-mouth glass jar, and sets it on the table. He then carefully pulls out a score of fist-sized rocks and places them next to the glass jar.

"How many of these do you think we can fit in the jar?" the professor asks his students.

"Where is the old man going with this?" the class collectively thinks to themselves. But in the spirit of good sport the students go along with the presentation and begin to make random guesses. Five. Seven. Sixteen.

The professor begins to gently place the rocks, one by one, into the jar up to the lip of the brim.

"Is the jar full?" he asks. The class quickly agrees that it is full.

He then reaches behind the podium and pulls out a bucket of loose gravel and proceeds to pour it into the glass jar. The gravel fills up all the spaces between the large rocks and the glass. When the gravel has reached the brim and no empty space can be accounted for the professor slyly asks, "Is the jar full?"

At this point the class squints suspiciously. They can kind of see where the old man is going with this. This time they answer "Probably not."

The professor is impressed with his class. He reaches behind the podium once again and this time pulls out a bucket of sand. He again pours the sand into the jar until all the tiny crevices between the rocks, gravel, and glass are filled up. Again he asks "Is the jar full?"

Collectively the class shouts, "No!"

"Very good!" the professor replies. Finally he pulls out a pitcher of water from behind the podium (mind you this is an unusually large podium) and pours the water into the jar. He asks "So what's the point of all this?"

A student in front quickly answers, "No matter how full you think your schedule is, you can always make room for more things in your life."

The professor answers "No, that is not the point of this demonstration and I hope that is not the message you folks walk away with today. The point of all this is that you have to put the big rocks in first or else you will never get them in."

Now I guess it's up to each of us to determine what are the big rocks in our respective lives. I imagine family and God to be the two big ones. But I can also say, speaking for myself, I often forget to put the big rocks in first or even at all, and foolishly let all the gravel and sand take up my limited space. This year I plan to work on recognizing the big rocks (I'm not talking about the 2-karat kind ladies) and to cultivate them.

I guess wisdom takes a long time to gain. Oftentimes it is pride that stands in the way. Maybe that's why I don't like motivational speakers yet.