The Matter With Metrics
Tuesday, New Year’s Eve.
I mentally prepared myself to get ready and get to work. As I sat in my car staring at a red light, my eyes drifted towards the dashboard and I started looking at the needles, gauges and the numbers.
The first thing I checked was if I had enough fuel. Looked good.
The next thing I noticed was that the engine was ice cold, just like my ex’s heart. I made a mental note to not invoke my inner racer and exceed 2000 RPM on the tachometer until the engine was in its operating temperature window.
Next, it seemed like a good day to have a spare jacket in the car with the temperature hovering around 13 Celsius. Yes, I refuse to use Fahrenheit. Sue me.
Passenger Airbag Off. Would be pretty creepy if it was on, considering it was just me in the car. But nevertheless, one of the things that needed checking to confirm that I wasn’t in the Matrix or in someone else’s dream.
A quick glance at the time reminded me to look up at the lights, as they just turned green. Mind you, all of the above happened in the space of maybe 10 seconds. As I thought about this moment later in the day, I realized that accurate data can be a powerful tool in daily life and that good metrics keep us on track.
Early Days
The moment we step away from the first few years of careless abandon and into the long drawn process of schooling, we are bombarded with data, statistics and metrics. Class timings, GPAs, ranks, you name them. There is now a central plan around which our life revolves. Wake up time, homework time, play time, bed time & vacation time engage in an intricate dance around the new normal of the school routine.
We get so conditioned to having a plan for everything, that we start planning our unstructured time too. By the time we leave school behind & enter the workforce, we are adding social activities like concerts, movies, lunches to our calendars lest someone else attempt to vie for that time, or worse, lest you forget about it altogether. Soon enough, we are formally reserving blocks of time for personal activities like reading, writing, working out, playing a musical instrument or watching the next episode of a television series that has made you a social outcast until you are up to speed.
I think we underestimate the amount of stress that structure and expectations exert on us. But can we “function well”, “be our best selves” & “make a positive impact in the world” without the looming shadow of metrics evaluating us every second of each day?
Personally, I am fiercely protective of my free time and I like to keep it as unplanned and unstructured as possible. Combine this with a chronic procrastinator and you have a Michelin star recipe for plummeting productivity. I have seen several personal goals suffer under this chaotic regime. But like a cat chasing after a moving laser dot on the ground, I was curious if planning out a weekend reaps dividends.
The Experiment
I picked up a pen and a notebook and for the first five minutes, tried to remember the last time I actually wrote something down on paper. Realizing that this tangential thought process was not aiding my scientific pursuits, I jotted down a list of things that would define whether the next couple of days were a success or not.
Finish reading a book
Record a cover video for YouTube
Get started on a metal craft project
Do a quick trial of that new technology that everyone is foaming around the mouth about
Miscellaneous errands
…
I tried my best to divide these up efficiently among the two days, so I wouldn’t keel under the burden of all that is undone. I set aside some “boredom” time too, where I could clean up all the clutter in my head and pursue hand-picked, half-baked thoughts to see where they lead. It’s incredible how creative our brains get when challenged with the idea of doing nothing. Listen to Abish Mathew explain this phenomenon wonderfully.
Saturday morning. I woke up buzzing with energy, ready to get things do... wait, who am I kidding?
I woke up groggy, not sure if I was ready to get out of bed for another fifteen minutes or not. But once I was up, at least I didn’t have to figure out what to do next. I consulted my list and set out on my experiment.
Observations
It is painful to admit, but yes — I did get a lot more done when I chalked out exactly what I needed to do before the weekend began. I breezed through the days knocking out one item after another on the list, and time flies when you’re busy. Within metaphorical seconds, you’re having dinner on Sunday night and wondering where the entire day went. Another day lost to the past, without a chance to taste & relish the delicacy called free time.
Naturally, this train of thought led me to the next logical station. Is it just me or can humans simply not function effectively without a plan? Is the idea of unplanned ‘me time’ just an ostentatious romanticization of ‘doing nothing’?
One thing I do know is that I never tried to “plan” my weekend for a second time. It just wasn’t me, despite enjoying the bold checkmarks next to every completed item. I think a part of me enjoys being a flawed human — carefree, forgetful and underachieving. I decided to visit a national park on the next weekend, where there wouldn’t be any pressure to reach my potential.
A crisp mountain breeze hits my face, as I narrow my eyes. The cold makes my eyes water and the freshwater stream surrounded by ancient trees makes my content heart leap up with joy. I do not have a care, and all the time to stand and stare. I am unaware and unconcerned about what time it is. Knowing that it is sometime between breakfast and lunch is good enough for me. I gaze at a hummingbird hovering around a barren branch. I follow the tiny creature with my eyes and as it flies away hurriedly into the forest, I notice a black squirrel scurrying down a tree and sitting up straight, as if to say “Your kind is either busy ignoring us or destroying our habitat. Which one are you?”. I kneel down and smile at the squirrel, trying to tell it that there is no need to worry and at the same time, comprehending the ridiculousness of conversing with a wild animal.
Growing up, this is what I have always imagined happiness to look and feel like. Now, I realize that this is probably just retirement.
