By Dale Simonson
Heat waves shimmered off the desert floor, obscuring distant objects in blurry movement. The thermometer read 110-degree, and the sun felt like the open coal hatch to a furnace. Most people would question the wisdom of roaming the New Mexican desert at the height of the summer sun, but not me. I was entranced by the giddy enthusiasm of my daughter who had chosen rockhounding in the American Southwest for the year’s daddy-daughter get-away that was an annual tradition. Rockhounding is not exactly a beg-to-go affair for many 14 year-olds, but for her it was one of a dozen or so quirky, far-from-mainstream passions that lights up her eyes with a vibrant and visible enthusiasm for life.
I again wiped the beads of rapidly evaporating perspiration from my forehead and glanced over at my teen. She was bent down scrutinizing what might have been her 800th rock of the day trying to decide whether it was a keeper or not. And that’s when the Big Rock story came to mind and I realized I was looking right at one of the big rocks in my life – my daughter. Both of my daughters.
I received the Big Rock story in the early 2000s via a blast email. I have read and reread that story many times during the years since. It frequently entered my thinking and undoubtedly influenced the trajectory of my life in many ways. It triggered some serious thinking about what the important goals (the “big rocks”) in my life should be, and gave me the clear analogy of grains of sand every time I realized that I was wasting loads of time on petty time-sucks that collectively would add up to nothing in life. The story goes like this:
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A while back I was reading about an expert on the subject of time management. One day this expert was speaking to a group of business students and, to drive home a point, used an illustration I’m sure those students will never forget.
As this man stood in front of the group of high-powered overachievers he said, “Okay, time for a quiz.” Then he pulled out a one-gallon, wide-mouthed mason jar and set it on a table in front of him. He produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time, into the jar. When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, “Is this jar full?”
Everyone in the class said, “Yes.” Then he said, “Really?” He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. Then he dumped some gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the spaces between the big rocks.
Then he smiled and asked the group once more, “Is the jar full?” By this time the class was onto him. “Probably not,” one of them answered. “Good!” he replied. And he reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in and it went into all the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel. Once more he asked the question, “Is this jar full?”
“No!” the class shouted. Once again he said, “Good!” Then he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. Then he looked up at the class and asked, “What is the point of this illustration?”
One eager beaver raised his hand and said, “The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard, you can always fit some more things into it!”
“No,” the speaker replied, “that’s not the point. The truth this illustration teaches us is: If you don’t put the big rocks in first, you’ll never get them in at all.” What are the ‘big rocks’ in your life? A project that YOU want to accomplish? An adventure you want to embark upon? Time with your loved ones? Your faith, your education, a cause? Teaching or mentoring others?
Remember to put these BIG ROCKS in first or you’ll never get them in at all.