I recently read Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. One story that stood out to me was a conversation between the author and his neighbor. The author, seeing the neighbor repairing a lawnmower, complains that he wishes he were skilled at repairing things too. The neighbor replies, you aren't, because you never took the time to learn.

This rings true to my childhood. Learning behavior is learned behavior. As a kid, my parents did not take the time to teach me. There was often discussion, as in one summer in which my stepmother said she'd teach me to cook: alas, I only remember heating cans of campbell's soup and boiling rice-in-a-bag (nice memory, A).

Today, I often feel inadequate or insecure in comparison to others. Why don't I have musical talent? Where's my published book? Where's my AI side hustle?

The answer to all such questions is, that I haven't taken the time to achieve these goals. It's a helpful and empowering reframing: the magic ingredients are time and effort. Thus, it comes down to choosing how I'd like to spend my time.

And it's especially helpful when I feel like I am "wasting" a lot of time: playing video games, endless scrolling (is there a better name for this dark pattern that emphasizes the darkness [doom scrolling implies dread, rather than numbness...]?), and so on.

In a given day, there's so many hours. I choose to spend those hours engaged in various activities. Aligning those activities with my goals is how I can "take the time" to become the person that I want to be.

Mystery solved, eh?