being frank

We have a coffee machine that we used religiously when my beloved was here. I still have a sign in the kitchen that reads, I drink coffee for your protection, so you can surmise from that how important a cup of morning brew was for all concerned. I’ve been a tea drinker for the better part of my life, so the K-Cup machine was a cost-effective move at détente during those early morning hours. But the one thing that always bothered me about this one machine in particular was an irritating design flaw: Each time we brewed a cup, the machine would invariably spittle all over anything within its reach.

OK; I know that that isn’t exactly an earth-shattering problem. At best, it’s a minor annoyance that involves cleaning up each time a cup of coffee or tea is brewed. Eventually, I came up with a simple solution that Rube Goldberg would have been proud of: I attached a small curtain made of paper towels around the brewing pedestal. Each time a cup of tea or coffee was brewed, I would put up the paper curtain to act as a barrier to keep the splatters from going everywhere.

Although this did eliminate the mess, it didn’t appreciably reduce the time spent dealing with the central problem – that of a coffee machine mass-produced with an annoying design flaw. Whether I took the time to put up the paper curtain and then take it down after each brew or clean up afterwards, I was still expending time to compensate for a flaw; for a lack of quality control.

This is where the value of life comes in.

I will spare you the math behind my calculations. But suffice it to say that on average, I was expending about 4.5 hours per year taking care of that annoying little faux pas. When I looked at the expenditure of time during the course of the eight years CeCe and I lived here before she passed, that came out to about 36 hours. Thirty-six hours. I cannot tell you with pinpoint accuracy what I would have done with those extra 36 hours. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that I would have spent them with my beloved, and that would have been nothing short of priceless.

The point here is this: Each life has value, and that value is as unique to each person as are the fingerprints they carry. And although the vast majority of us have every intention of traversing through life to its inescapable conclusion, we should be mindful of what we do to affect the quality of our life or the life of someone else. Life is a gift and no individual, company, government or religion has the right to lessen its length, its quality or its value.

Would I be able to demand reparations from the coffee machine company for the time I’ve lost? Of course not. But I can be more mindful of the way I spend my time. More importantly, I can be more mindful about how I misappropriate someone else’s time, be that through personal interactions or through the work I do that goes out into the world. The quality of our work – our service – is what helps add value to the lives of others and our own. Don’t waste any more time and do your best not to waste anyone else’s. There’s just no value in that.