I read Four Thousand Weeks recently. It sets itself apart from other time management books in one stark regard — it is not a manual for squeezing more things into your day.
Four thousand weeks, the length of an average lifetime, is frighteningly short, the reality of which is almost impossible to accept. The consequent reality is that you will not do a fraction of the things that you would like. Very little will be completed.
Completeness is a weak goal, because it rarely exists. Whether it’s money, travel or some other purpose, the more we chase it, and the more we tick off, the quicker “enough” grows. If you can’t be happy with what you have, what makes you think that more holidays, experiences, wealth or success will make you happier.
Read more on hedonistic adaptation if you don’t believe me.
One thinks with a watch in one’s hand — Nietzsche
We’re accustomed to thinking of “free time”, “work time”, “time off”, the containerisation & commodification of time as a resource, but this is not inherent to human beings. In fact it’s a relatively recent phenomena.
I recently read Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd, a vignettic chronicle of a rural village, in which its residents work to the beat of the land, birthing lambs in Spring, harvesting in Autumn. In short, time uses them, in a way that would trigger anxiety for many of us today.
Industrialisation made time a resource, necessary for mass-coordination & shift-work. Our lives could now be chunked, owned, bought and sold. “Company time”. Time is not just short, but “precious” now. We must “use it”, “spend it wisely”.
Time is money.
An alternative to squeezing more in to each time unit, is to get more out instead.
Rather than rushing to see 1000 paintings, what if you could study just one, attentively. Instead of reading all the greats, could you enjoy the sentences of your current book? If travelling to tens of countries still hasn’t made you feel “cultured”, try enjoying the beautiful architecture in your home town. Will you finally be happy with that promotion, or recognition, or the next project, or perhaps you could be proud of doing such a great job already?
Instead of chasing more in the future, can you enjoy now more instead?
In the rush to feel “complete”, we often pass wonder that can make us feel whole.
If you’re a card-carrying capitalist then your reaction to all the above is: “If we didn’t pursue more, we’d never make progress or achieve anything”. I’ll confess there’s a mini-capitalist devil on one shoulder that whispered the same thing to me.
It reminded me of these lines from Orwell who puts it best, as usual:
…any pleasure in the actual process of life encourages a sort of political quietism. People, so the thought runs, ought to be discontented, and it is our job to multiply our wants and not simply to increase our enjoyment of the things we have already.
— George Orwell, Some Thoughts on the Common Toad
The very idea of wanting less and appreciating it is a threat to our system of civilisation.
…yet if we kill all pleasure in the actual process of life, what sort of future are we preparing for ourselves? If a man cannot enjoy the return of Spring, why should he be happy in a labour-saving Utopia?
— Orwell, ibid
If there is no finish line, we must learn at least to enjoy the walk. And if there is some end in sight, what will we do once we reach it, if striving for more is our only passion?
You won’t feel “done”. Squeezing more in is futile. Instead, embrace the little you have, the beauty around you. Chasing more is forever, but you don’t have forever.
Depth over breadth. Quality over quantity. Getting more out, not fitting more in.