FOUR THOUSAND WEEKS

By Oliver Burkeman

If we live until we're 80 our lifetime will have consisted of only 4,000 weeks. This finitude, says Burkeman, had led to a whole host of problems for us. Or, more accurately, the way we've tried to deal with this finitude has created problems; in fact, we've made the whole thing feel worse than it is.

We struggle with our awareness that we don't have enough time. For anything. We don't have enough time to spend with our loved ones, to achieve our goals, to travel the world. And we certainly don't have enough time to do all of those things, plus put the wash on and feed the cat.

Traditionally we've tried to tackle this problem with productivity gains. Surely if we cut out boring tasks we'll have enough time for all the really important things? No. We still won't have enough time.

This is best demonstrated by Burkeman's scathing assessment of the rocks in the jar fable. You know the one. A professor brings an empty jar and some rocks, gravel and sand into a classroom and asks the students to put it all in the jar. The students start small but after adding the sand and gravel they find they can't fit the rocks. The professor rolls her eyes, empties the jar, puts the rocks in first and - voilá - the sand and gravel fits the spaces in between.

The big rocks are the things that matter to us and the motto of the story is that as long as you prioritise them everything else, like life admin, chores, and work, will fit around them too. You can fit everything in the jar; you can get everything done.

Bullshit, says Burkeman. The jar is too small. The reason is either depressing or freeing: there are too many rocks. We don't have enough time even for the things that we value.

Does this lead to paralysing sadness? It shouldn't. Burkeman explains how we can use this knowledge to our advantage.

Some of the suggested response is obvious: spend more time on the big rocks. Other insights are more valuable. Consider, for instance, that choosing to settle (with a partner, in a place, in a job) - that is, choosing a compromise between two big rocks - perhaps eases some of the panic we feel whilst frantically trying to fit too many rocks and far too much sand into a small jar.

Or consider that our obsession with productivity is actually counter-productive. The more we take on, the more we get, and the more we feel we need to do. We're stuck chasing something unattainable. Anything relegated to 'after I finish my to do list' is never enjoyed. It's better to accept that we can't do everything. I found this out (with difficulty) during my undergraduate degree so I can assure you: your life will change for the better when you accept that you can't be on top of everything.

Much of the book is philosophical: what led us to commoditise time? What impact has that commodification had on us? It might feel theoretical, but understanding these questions is key to understanding why you feel so guilty relaxing during work hours even when work is quiet, or why you feel like everything you do at the weekend should further your development.

Above all, this book empowers you to give up on something that was never possible: getting everything done. Burkeman encourages us to decide in advance which areas of life to fail at. This reduces the opportunity cost of everything that we do, which allows us to enjoy ourselves more. And isn't the most important realisation after our finitude that we must try to enjoy the time we have?

Four Thousand Weeks is a philosophical journey and a practical guide. Unlike many infuriating self help books, it isn't unrealistic. Burkeman doesn't tell us to live every day as if it's our last or pretend we'll never be stressed again. What he does is help us understand why we always feel rushed and busy, why we feel like our life is just a prelude to better things, and why we live for future moments instead of enjoying the present. Then he gently suggests some ways to ease those feelings.

This book might revolutionise the way you live your life, or it might merely provide food for thought. It is worth reading either way. Even if they don't feel revolutionary at the time, the learnings from this book will appear by your side the next time you need to make a big life decision or feel yourself spiralling at the impossibility of living such a short life.

I listened to this book and it appears in my post: five great audiobooks with great narrators.