Picture a 2x2 table like this:
| Urgent | Not Urgent | |
|---|---|---|
| Important | ||
| Not Important |
Now, imagine the activities in your life you would put in each cell of the table, divided by category: urgent and important; not urgent but important; urgent but not important; and neither urgent nor important. For example, I tell my daughters and students that a lot of time spent on Facebook or celebrity gossip magazines is neither urgent nor important, albeit fun. An Academy example of something both urgent and important might be submission of nominees for the 2012 Academy Awards (deadline: April 2, 2012), studying for Part I of the National Board Examination in Optometry, or, for me, writing this column. Something that is urgent but not really important in your life might include something that has an external deadline set by someone else that makes you spend time on something you’d really rather not have to do at all (maybe like your 2011 Federal tax return); if you’re lucky, your life minimizes time spent in that box.
It seems like the hardest box to get in and stay in for a significant amount of time each day/week/month is the “not urgent but important” box. A student in one of my classes recently pointed out that “doing laundry” falls in that box. I had to concede she was right, even though it wasn’t what exactly what I had in mind. What I did have in mind were things like writing the first draft of a scientific publication, taking a few minutes to read more about the perplexing condition your last patient had, reviewing materials for the next day’s lecture, or working on your grant proposal well before its deadline. It includes reading to a child, spending time with an elderly friend, and writing that last case report for your Fellowship application. (I know. You’re saying, “Wait, the last one sounds both urgent and important,” until you realize that the Fellowship option rolls around every year, so the urgency is artificial.) Likewise, that spinning class at the gym happens several times a day. It’s only me who makes it important without any real associated urgency.
We sort of get an extra day this week in which to prioritize because it’s Leap Year. I know, I know. You already have patients scheduled, lectures to give and/or attend, and commitments already made. Nonetheless, resolve to spend some small portion of Wednesday, February 29, on something that is utterly important to you and, ideally, to our Academy. Book out the Academy Annual Meeting in Phoenix, October 24-27, 2012, on your calendar. Find the patient for that case report. Study for that diplomate exam. Analyze the data for that scientific abstract. After all, who’d want to do laundry on a day like that?
