I am sure many of you have heard the analogy about putting the big rocks first. If not, here is a brief recap of the story.
An instructor was lecturing his students about time. At one point, he said, “Okay, time for a quiz.”
He reached under the table and pulled out a wide-mouthed gallon jar. He then filled the jar with big rocks. Then he asked, “Is this jar full?”
Everyone said, “Yes.”
He then reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. Then he dumped some gravel in and shook the jar and the gravel went in all the little spaces left by the big rocks. Then he grinned and said once more, “Is the jar full?”
By this time the class was on to him. “Probably not,” they said.
He then brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in and it went into all of the little spaces left by the rocks and the gravel. Once more he looked up and said, “Now is this jar full?”
Yes? He then grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in. He got about a quart of water in that jar. Thenhe said, “Well, what’s the point?”
Somebody said, “Well, there are gaps, and if you work really hard you can always fit some more things into your life.”
“No,” he said, “That’s not the point. The point is this: If you hadn’t put the big rocks in first, you never would have fit them in. Now you need to decide what your big rocks are.”
Two weeks ago I took the kids to the North Shore to visit my parents. We love going down to the beach. There we either throw rocks into the lake or pick up favorite colors or shapes. I am known to love heart-shaped rocks and there is one beach in particular where it seems I always findone or two. Thistime I found five heart-shaped rocks in a variety of colors. I built them into a rock cairn. (Though I cheated and used glue….rock cairns are beautiful but hard to balance.) Note: Spending time on the shore with my children and parents—big rock!
We visited Sven and Ole’s for a pizza and in the process ran into two 1982 graduates Carl and Julie. One with his beautiful family sharing the north with his kids and one a brand-new grandmother! Yikes, where did the time go and please Lord don’t make me a grandma for another 10 years or so. Note: Introducing my kids to people who knew me back when I thought I knew it all—big rock!
My parents like to be with family and friends and my kids have a good time with them. Usually this means several games of cards or dominos instead of watching TV. My youngest son’s greatest joy came this weekend when he played a perfect game of Up and Down the River and for the very first time ever
beat my dad. If you have had the chance to play cards with my dad you know you rarely win. He’s very good. Note: Playing cards with Grandma and Grandpa just like I did as a kid, though I never beat my dad—big rock!
We couldn’t get grandpa and grandma to go down the Alpine Slide (something about a fear of stopping) but grandma did hold the towels while all the kids stripped down to their skivvies and plunged into the lake up to their knees. I should mention here that it was 42 degrees outside. The original plan was to jump in the lake but the waves were quite high and I was worried someone might get pulled under and let’s face it I was not going in after them! Note: Scaring grandma half to death but making a lifetime memory— big rock!
My parents, my kids, my husband, family and friends are my big rocks. I have spent a lot of time trying to put them into my jar first but then I realized there is another rock I need to get in there before all the gravel, sand and water fill up the jar and that’s me. For my rock in the jar I will find the perfect heart shaped rock and place it right on top!
Action expresses priorities.
Mahatma Gandhi
Taste of Home columnist Sandy
(Anderson) Holthaus lives on
an alpaca farm in South Haven,
MN with her husband, Michael,
and their children Zoe, Jack
and Ben. Her heart remains on
the North Shore where she
grew up with her parents, Art
and LaVonne Anderson of
Schroeder. She enjoys writing
about her childhood and mixes
memories with delicious helpings
of home-style recipes.
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