Waste Your Time (On Purpose)

Why high-performers miss the moments that actually matter

Last weekend, we spent two hours in the cold watching Miller collect $12 worth of candy the hard way.

He was Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez. Lori and I dressed as Wendy Peffercorn and Squints to be his supporting cast.

It was the best night I've had in weeks.

But here's what I've been thinking about since: high-performers are terrible at wasting time intentionally. We either optimize everything OR collapse into mindless scrolling. There's no in-between.

And that missing middle ground? That's where the moments that actually matter live.

The Optimization Trap

I've caught myself doing this for years.

Everything has to be "worth it." Every hour needs to justify itself. Every activity gets measured against what else I could be doing with that time.

When Lori was planning Halloween decorations, I’d groan and complain about how dumb it sounded. I would provide no input. If she asked what I thought, I’d say, "Whatever you think, babe." When she asked if I wanted to help set up, I'd physically be there but mentally somewhere else. Checking my phone. Thinking about work.

I’d show up, but I didn't really show up.

And here's the brutal part: I was wasting the time anyway.

When she wanted me to help plan or set up, I wasn’t doing anything productive; I’d be watching football. I'd be scrolling. Half-watching a show I don't care about. Burning hours on stuff that doesn't fill me up or move me forward.

How is it that I could complain about how decorating didn’t matter, yet tell myself that a football game is important to watch?.

The Cost Nobody Talks About

The problem isn't that you miss the event. You were there. You have the photos to prove it.

The problem is lurking through it. Being physically present but mentally checked out.

I've watched this pattern in myself and others: we stop contributing to the planning because we never engaged in the first place. Our partners plan everything, and we show up when it's time.

Our kids don't know the difference yet. But eventually, they will. They'll remember whether we were actually there or just... there.

And we'll look back at photos of nights we can barely remember because we were never fully present for them.

What Had to Shift

Here's what I've learned: Sometimes the best use of time is a waste of time.

Silly things deserve serious attention. Not because they're objectively important. But because the people they're for are important.

When Lori asks what I think the decorations should look like now, I have ideas. Not because I care about Halloween decorations, but because I care about being someone who contributes instead of someone who coasts. 

When we're setting up, I'm figuring out how to attach the spiders to the house. Screwing it up. Trying again. Because what else am I doing? Watching a game where I don't know any of the players?

This is the practice ground for presence. Learning to engage fully with low-stakes stuff so you can do it everywhere else that matters.

The Real Difference

Miller won't remember the efficiency calculation. He'll remember that I was there. That I was present. That we dressed up as characters from The Sandlot and did something silly together, and I was all in.

Here's what separates intentional time-wasting from mindless time-wasting:

Mindless: Watching a football game while telling yourself it matters. Scrolling for an hour. Checking your phone while your kid talks to you. Complaining about how dumb decorations are.

Intentional: Actually engaging with the silly stuff. Having opinions about decorations. Being present for trick-or-treating. Dressing up as Squints even though you're a grown adult.

Both are "unproductive." But one creates connection. The other creates distance.

Why This Matters

Here's the pattern I see in high-performers: we're so good at maximizing output that we forget how to just be with people.

Every activity needs a purpose. Every moment needs to be "worth it."

But the moments that make life worth living rarely pass that test.

Planning decorations for a holiday that'll be over in one night. Walking around collecting candy. Dressing up as characters from a '90s baseball movie.

None of it matters. All of it matters.

You get to decide.

The Skill Worth Building

If you can't waste time intentionally—if you can't engage fully with something that doesn't "matter"—you're missing the skill that creates presence everywhere else.

The ability to say "this is what we're doing right now, so I'm all in" regardless of whether it's objectively productive.

That's what your relationships need. That's what your kids will remember. That's what actually recharges you instead of draining you.

Not every moment needs to be optimized. Some moments just need to be lived.

Two hours in the cold for $12 of candy. Best night I've had in weeks.

What "pointless" thing with someone you love deserves your full attention this week?

Hit reply and let me know. I read every response.

-Ricky

P.S. This approach to presence over productivity is part of the consciousness-based framework I teach in "Stop Lurking, Start Living." The best moments in life aren't the efficient ones—they're the ones where you decide to be fully there.