This story comes in many different versions - this is the one I remember, although I do like the shorter joke version that involves beer.
The story takes place in this management seminar for high-flying business executives where they've got a bunch of conferences about how to synergise your product verticals in the prosumer spaces, what's the best 5 iron to buy as a collateralised debt obligation, and how to build up a track record of delivering solid project across transversals and all that kind of management stuff...
The story takes place in this management seminar for high-flying business executives where they've got a bunch of conferences about how to synergise your product verticals in the prosumer spaces, what's the best 5 iron to buy as a collateralised debt obligation, and how to build up a track record of delivering solid project across transversals and all that kind of management stuff...
And amongst the lectures given is that one on time management, and the headline is this proper mystic-ass Zen shaman guru cat, full-on baba robes and weird hair or lack thereof (you see the kind, right) and, although all the other speakers are billed as MBA CEO PTSD, CFO ROFL BBQ and that kind of stuff, the guru guy is just listed as "Spiritual temporalisator" or something equally intriguing.
Anyway, the guy walk in, walks up to the podium, and brandishes a large glass jar, the kind you could pickle a prize-winning cabbage in. He asks "Tell me. Is the jar full?"
I should specify at this stage for the sake of narrative integrity that the jar is, in fact, empty.
So there's a couple of glances in the audience, they're all sitting silent in awe of the guy, who smells strongly of patchouli and of that weird incense their kids tend to use, the one that makes them feel a bit woozy.
Then Chad (there's always a Chad - not the country, but the kind of suited boardroom winner Colgate smiled salesman bro that looks like he's stepped out of a stock photograph and into an Orwellian douchetopia), who's the senior vice-president of new media, technology and millenials at Meretricibus Ltd. ("Businessing in business: making your business a business") pipes up:
"No, it's empty!"
Guru cat nods wisely. Produces a big stone from somewhere about his person and the robes it comes in, puts it in the jar, closes the lid. The stones about as big as the jar, it's a nice fit. It's like a mineral competition cabbbage, basically.
So he asks again "Tell me. Is the jar full?"
Chad, heady with his previous success in answering a yes/no question that would be considered beneath the mental acumen of the average four year old, is on a roll:
"Yes!"
The Guru shakes his head, and in that movement manages to convey a degree of sorrow rarely seen outside of cancer wards.
"No. The jar is not full. Look."
He opens a lid, produce a handful of smaller stones he manages to cram in the jar around the big one, closes the lid. "Tell me. Is the jar full now?"
Chad is of course burning with a shame that reminds him of that prom night with Pamela, so he sits that one out, but some other person, from the back of the room shouts "Yup, look full to me."
The mystic guy dismissively asserts "You looked, but you did not see.", opens the lid, gets some gravel, adds it to the jar, closes the lid.
Murmurs all around the audience.
"See! Tell me, is the jar full? "
Now of course, those guys didn't manage to get where they are - not the Twin Palms Beach Resort, Country Club and Golf Course, but where they are in their professional life, by being able to be made into fools three times in a row. I mean, twice, maybe, but not three times.
So there's an increasing wave of whisper and overall brouhaha as they attempt to gauge whether to take the risk of answering, and if so, what to say.
At which point the Guru mutters "Well, I am getting paid 10 grand for this", and shouts "You see, but you do not observe, you think the jar may be full this time. But is it? Behold!", and, same trick, adds some sand to the jar, closes the lid.
The suits are really impressed. This guy is good. This is definitely going somewhere... With the robes and the jar, I mean bra-vo. This is going to be one they're going to milk for all its worth for many a dinner party to come. There's even the beginning of a smatter of applause before the monk (is he a monk? who knows?) silences them in a single swoop of his arm, and bellows:
"So.... Is the jar full now?".
This is it, this is the climax, and it's nearly lunch so, they go for it, I mean yeah, fair enough, the sand, right, but like, it's full now right? and many voices pipe up saying "Yes!"
So the man on the stage opens the lid, grabs the pitcher of water next to the glass on the speaker's podium, and, in complete silence, broken by gasps of astonishment from the corporoids, starts pouring some water in the jar, managing to add about a pint before it is now, full to the brim.
Rapturous applause, some people were so taken in they think that's it and actually stand up and leave, the works.
Again, gesture, again silence.
"So... what does this show you. You have looked. You have seen. You have observed and beholden, but have you.... understood?"
Chad is in for a comeback, because, well, earlier on there was a bit of loss of face, and to be fair, he wouldn't mind doing a bit on an impression on the blonde HR director that, now that he thinks of it, reminds him of Pamela.
"Yeah, yeah, of course, it's like, a metaphor, see, for time management. We think we're fully booked, but in between the big events in our schedule, there's always time to have quick catch-up, and in between those, work through your emails, especially now with technology, it's the idea of zero-downtime for the win, like in that book that..."
The sage proceeds to empty the contents of the jar onto Chad, water, sand, gravel, stones big and small cascade down his suit.
"No. You do not learn. You do not see, you do not understand. The point of this, is thatif I'd started filling the jar with the sand and the water, there wouldn't have been any space for the stones!"
So... Prioritise your life.
In terms of time, in terms of money, in terms of mental energy.
It's easy to fill in on sand and water: the minutes on Facebook that add up to hours, the reading of news stories forgotten the next day, the new gadget here and the needless lunch out there...
But too much of that, and you won't have space for the stones - love, friendship, buying a holiday you really need, reading a book, learning a new language, spending time with your family, or simply in the company of yourself.
So, start with the stones. Know your stones, and start there. And then, if there is space, fill it with sand.
But you'll soon find out you'll find more stones you care about more than the sand and the water.