The Traffic Jam That Changed My Perspective
The Traffic Jam That Changed My Perspective
What my 3-year-old taught me about what actually matters
The other day, I got stuck in traffic on the way to work. Amidst cursing to myself on the highway, I suddenly remembered the reason I would be late to work:
My son, Miller, wanted to give me one more hug and kiss before I left.
I started to overthink things as one does while stuck in traffic. Why was I so upset about a trivial fifteen minutes? That’s when I realized: I won't ever remember the traffic, but I'll never forget that hug.
The Two-Minute Choice
We’ve all had this morning: I was already running a few minutes behind (the usual morning chaos). Keys and coffee in hand, half-jogging to the car, screaming I love you from the garage.
That's when Miller called from upstairs, “Daddy, wait. I want another hug.”
My first instinct was the responsible adult response: "Daddy has to go to work, buddy. I'm already late."
But then I paused. Even though I knew the consequences, I thought about how fast these moments disappear. I was just conscious enough in that moment to realize what was actually happening.
This wasn't about a hug. This was about a choice between two competing priorities.
What We Optimize For
I gave him that hug. And a kiss. And when he asked for "one more," I gave him that too.
The result? I hit every red light on the way to work. Sat in traffic for an extra fifteen minutes. I walked into my first class slightly frazzled, with kids waiting for me to open the door.
I reminded myself again: I'll never remember that traffic jam.
In five years, I won't remember the class I was late to, the grading stack that piled up, or the mild stress of being behind schedule.
But I'll remember the weight of my son in my arms. The way he squeezed my neck just a little tighter than usual. The satisfied smile when he finally let me go.
Why do we optimize for the urgent and lose the important?
The Consciousness Check
This got me thinking about all the times I've rushed past moments like this because I was "too busy" for what actually mattered.
How many hugs have I shortened because I was focused on getting somewhere faster?
How many conversations have I cut short because I had "important" things to do?
How many chances to be present have I missed because I was managing my schedule instead of my priorities?
The question isn't whether you're busy. The question is: what are you busy protecting?
What Your Schedule Reveals
Your calendar is a confession of your real priorities.
Not what you say matters to you, but what you actually make time for when the choice is in front of you.
Yesterday, I chose two extra minutes with my son over arriving on time. That choice revealed something about what I actually value, not just what I claim to value.
We say family is our top priority, but then we optimize our entire day around everything else.
The Memory Test
Here's a simple question that cuts through all the productivity noise:
In ten years, what will you remember from today?
Will you remember the email you answered immediately, or the conversation you had with your kid?
This question doesn’t need to be answered in the moment. Believe it or not, you can predetermine what the value of each day will be.
However, you must choose in your present moment to engage in the value. The problem is, too often we are worried about something that isn’t as important as what is standing right in front of us.
Time management isn't about managing time. It's about managing what you'll remember.
The Real Efficiency
The most efficient use of your morning isn't getting out the door thirty seconds faster.
It's making sure the people who matter most don't have to compete with your schedule for your attention.
It's being present enough to recognize when something more important than your agenda is happening right in front of you.
Sometimes the best use of your time is "wasting" it on what actually matters.
What I'm Learning
Miller doesn't know that he taught me something important that day. He was just a three-year-old who wanted one more hug from his dad.
But he reminded me that the moments worth remembering rarely appear on our calendars. They show up in the spaces between our plans, asking us to choose what we'll optimize for.
The traffic jam was inconvenient. The hug was everything.
What are you rushing past today that you'll wish you had slowed down for?
These moments of clarity happen when we're conscious enough to see them. If this resonated, you might be interested in more insights about living consciously in my upcoming book, "Stop Lurking, Start Living."
This work is meant to be reflective and shared. If you enjoyed it, let me know. I read every response. If you think someone else will enjoy it, please share!
-Ricky