I recently finished a book called Four Thousand Weeks Time Management for Mortals. The title is based on the fact that the average lifespan is 4000 weeks, and according to the book, most of us spend our weeks fighting against the finiteness of life. It also says we fight against the feeling that we’re running out of time. We fight against our lack of control. We create life hacks in an attempt to do more in less time. We live in the space of “I’ll be happy when…”
To that, I say, “And?”
I’m kidding, but not really. I’ve spent a lifetime thinking about all the ways I’ll be happy when I get enough money, when I get further along in my career, or when I check another thing off my to-do list. I’m so tied to my “must get it done” mentality that I remember taking my daughter home from the hospital after she was born and saying to my wife, “Okay, so we’ll get her home. Then this week we’ll get the thank you cards done, then we’ll get her set up in the apartment, then I’ll figure out this breastfeeding thing, and then I can relax, and I’ll settle into maternity with her.”
Are there any parents or folks with half an IQ point reading who want to guess how my plan went? It did not go well. I have yet to relax, and my daughter is now 15.
I’ve approached my career in the same way. I excel at moving the goalpost as soon as I achieve something that anyone in their right mind would consider a win. I give myself no “attagirls” or cocktails to celebrate. I much prefer to sprint toward yet another far-off goal.
The result of all my running is not a tight ass and slim waist, as I would hope. Instead, I end up asking myself the nagging question, “When will I be happy with what I have?”
For that very reason, this book resonated with me deeply. I’ve never read anything like it in the self-help space. However, I caution anyone considering reading it because it doesn’t give you an answer or a tidy “Ten Steps For Time” plan. Instead, it reads more like a philosophical chat with your friends after that third drink. Picture me at the bar. Finger in the air, poised to capture the bartender’s attention while musing about all the ways I’m constantly calculating time yet never being present in the moment. I’m not going to lie, I would really have liked the author to give me a plan. I’m a plan type of gal. Maybe if I email him?
No, robin. No.
Honestly, this isn’t something that I do often, but I find myself just sitting with the ideas from the book. I’ve been thinking about all the ways in my life where I choose to complete tasks that don’t bring me joy or that are about controlling some uncontrollable situation. I’m thinking about our current political landscape. There is not one part of this upcoming election that I can change or affect other than voting. So, should I spend part of my 4000 weeks incessantly watching the news, lamenting over “the state of things,” or should I vote and then find things in my life that bring me joy and allow me to live right now?
The author leaves you at the end with five questions to ask yourself in order to use your 4000 weeks for joy rather than waxing poetically about a future that may or may not happen. If I’m being truthful, I nodded my head profusely while he read me those five questions (Yes, I’m an audiobook listener because it allows me to read more - counterintuitive to the whole book? Also, yes.) Anyway, right after he read those five questions, I promptly forgot them. I did say to myself that I could look the questions up and put them in my notes app so I can refer back to them, which is important because this is a topic I want to explore more.
So, I'd love to hear your thoughts while I’m finding the holy grail of five questions. Are you in a race against time? Do you think everything about this 4000 weeks concept is hooey? Are you currently googling the book and dropping it in your library queue?
Say more in the comments!
On the topic of time and how we show up in the world, last week’s episode of my podcast, Well…Adjusting, is quite fitting to the conversation. Brandon joins me and Producer Steph, and we talk about his quest. He’s searching to find exactly the right Brandon he wants to be. He knows it’s a Brandon filled with calm, quiet, and serenity. But is it that simple? Can one decide who they want to be? We dive into Brandon’s journey, exploring the challenges he faces in his quest for inner peace.
I’d love to leave you today with a witty quip about how we're all on a path to being ten percent closer to joy, but that feels a tad bit disingenuous.
Instead, I’m going to leave you with the brilliant words of John Cusack in Say Anything:
“I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed…I don’t know. I can’t figure it all out tonight, sir. I’m just kinda hangin’ with your daughter.”
Until next week.
I am googling the book to purchase… I need this! I’m always searching…