I am halfway through the Four Hour Work Week on audiobook. When I’ve finished the book, I will post a thorough review but – to be totally honest – I’ve been doing most of what he describes since childhood (except for the lengthy beachside vacations) and I know it works.
If I were a few years older, I would suspect Timothy Ferriss and I were fraternal twins separated at birth.
Life is so very short. Time slips through your fingers as smooth and silky as sand. It’s not until something knocks you out of your head that you realize it’s your own fault it slips by so fast. I’ve been acutely aware of it since my mother’s death when I was five years old.
With an analytical mind, a Leo’s laziness and a sense of urgency unfitting a child, I became ruthlessly efficient. I had no problem thinking quickly and making decisions. I also had no problem looking someone, anyone in the eye, and saying “No.” I still remember the looks on people’s faces. A tiny, seemingly cherubic, blonde girl with hands on both hips, firm in her adamant refusal. Of what? Who knows, but it was so empowering.
The downside of living at this pace, in operating in this way, is that it alienates others. It is off-putting to those who can not, or will not, abide. This cast me out socially. The world was not ready for my hyper-efficiency. While most have to learn to say no, to prioritize and be efficient, I had to learn to take a breath and pause to look at people and connect. My grandma often reprimanded me. “Stop and smell the roses!” she’d insist. Even as a child, I scoffed. You see, I had things to do.
It’s still a struggle every day not to rush through life in an undulating thought bubble, but if you rush through life, you miss it completely.
Of course, I still have things to do – like finishing listening to this book – but now I can at least vouch for the roses. They smell fantastic.