Give me books, fruit, french wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors. --John Keats

Friday, October 22, 2021

"Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals" by Oliver Burkeman

Despite its title, Burkeman's is not the usual time management book. If you want a 1-2-3 for "here's what you do to make the most of your life," this is not that.

The purpose of this book is more to encourage a shift in perspective. Burkeman baldly states that for each of us, there just isn't enough time. There will always be too much to do. But far from allowing this to be a depressing realization culminating with "and everybody dies, the end," Burkeman pushes us to embrace the limits. Our time and attention are finite, therefore valuable.

Throughout his writing, Burkeman reminds us that "our lives are outrageously brief but full of shimmering possibilities . . . the world is bursting with wonder--the ultimate point is to experience more of that wonder . . . make room for engaging productively with your fellow citizens, current events, or the fate of the environment."

We can't "do it all," and we shouldn't even want to. Being more efficient and getting more done, far from giving us a calm and tranquil life with increased leisure time, actually leads to more anxiety and a greater possibility of feeling too busy. What we need to do instead is to pare down what we do to only what is important or necessary, then be fully present for it. This works better than what many people seem to do, which is to live mentally in the future, trying to reach a point where they have beaten back the chores enough to address whatever it is that they truly find important. That point is impossible to reach, so we need to be sure to incorporate those things we find truly important into our lives now

Burkeman asks a few questions at the end of the book, and one of them stuck with me. Is there anywhere in life I am pursuing comfort when what's called for is a little discomfort? What Burkeman means by this: Am I not pursuing life projects that matter the most, because it's easier not to? But I added my own spin. Is there any issue I am not addressing because doing so would cause me discomfort? It's a good question to contemplate.

Burkeman also makes some final suggestions, one of which is to keep two "to do" lists: one open (everything you'll ever want to do goes on here) and one closed (a limited list of perhaps ten things that you actually plan to do very soon). As you mark things off the closed list, you can move other items to it from the open list. This was my favorite suggestion, both because it is something I was already doing before I read this book (yay me!) and because it's a solid, reasonable method that I have found works well. 

Did this book change my life? I am thinking more about my finitude. I intend to be more mindful of the ways I choose to spend my time. And this pushes me one step closer to the freedom of not finishing books that I'm not enjoying. Still not there yet, though. 

No comments: