I Like Four Thousand Weeks

Hello, friends!

This week’s edition of Things I Like is about a book that completely reshaped how I think about time: Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. If you haven’t read it, the title alone is a bit of a reality check—four thousand weeks is about how long the average human life lasts. That’s it. And while that might sound a little unsettling, Burkeman takes this fact and turns it into something liberating: an invitation to rethink productivity, let go of perfectionism, and embrace the finite nature of our time.

The Productivity Trap

One of the biggest ideas in Four Thousand Weeks is that we’ve been sold a lie about productivity. We tend to think that if we just get more efficient, if we optimize our schedules, if we finally get our to-do lists under control, then we’ll be able to relax and enjoy life. But Burkeman points out that this is a trap—there will always be more to do, and the more efficient we become, the more work tends to pile up. Instead of constantly trying to “get on top of things,” he suggests we accept that we’ll never get to everything, and that’s okay.

I love this reframing because it challenges the idea that productivity is the highest good. It’s easy to fall into the mindset that being busy means being valuable, but Four Thousand Weeks reminds us that much of what makes life meaningful—relationships, creativity, rest—doesn’t fit neatly into a productivity framework.

Embracing Limitation

A big theme in the book is that our time is limited, and that’s not a problem to be solved. We often approach time as if we need to maximize every moment, but Burkeman argues that real freedom comes from accepting that we can’t do it all. Instead of trying to squeeze more into our days, he encourages us to be intentional about what we say yes to—and to recognize that every choice is, by necessity, a trade-off.

For me, this connects with so many conversations I have as a therapist. So much anxiety comes from feeling like we’re running out of time, or that we should be doing more. But Four Thousand Weeks offers an antidote: instead of fighting against our limitations, what if we embraced them? What if we allowed ourselves to prioritize what actually matters to us, rather than trying to meet some impossible standard of productivity?

Being Present in the Messiness of Life

One of my favorite takeaways from the book is Burkeman’s argument that we need to stop waiting for life to feel “under control” before we can enjoy it. He points out that we often imagine some future version of ourselves who finally has everything figured out—who has the perfect routine, the ideal work-life balance, the stress-free existence. But that moment never arrives. Life is always a little messy, and waiting for the perfect conditions to be happy means waiting forever.

This idea is both challenging and freeing. It reminds me that this—the unfinished to-do list, the imperfect days, the moments of uncertainty—is life. And if I keep postponing joy until everything is perfectly in place, I’ll miss the life that’s happening right now.

Conclusion

Four Thousand Weeks is a book about time, but really, it’s a book about how to live. It challenges the way we think about productivity, limitation, and presence, and it offers a path toward a more intentional, less frantic way of moving through the world. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by your to-do list or worried that you’re “falling behind,” I highly recommend giving it a read.

Thanks for joining me this week in Things I Like. Until next time, remember: know yourself, love yourself, and spend your time on what truly matters.