The Clock Is Ticking

Do you know that the average life expectancy of American men is 77 years, and the average life expectancy of American women is 80 years? Do you care? You should.

In his new book, “Four Thousand Weeks, Time Management for Mortals,” Oliver Burkeman reminds us that we are mortal and that we have a finite time in which to live, love, play, work, and do all the things that matter.

Time to freak out, at least I did. Figure out how many weeks you have left. OMG, you say, but those numbers are the average life expectancies. You could fall victim to less than the average or you could prevail and live more than the average. My crystal ball is in the shop, and I trust yours is as well. Regardless of where you are on the lifeline of the 4,000 weeks, the realization of time limits is disconcerting.

Why even mention this book? Because we lawyers are enmeshed in the cult of “busyness,”  not just “business,” and we all know that there’s a world of difference between the two. How many times has a friend or colleague called (I know, so old-fashioned), emailed (also old-fashioned), reached out to you on social media or texted you to ask how you are? And the reply is almost invariably, “I’m busy, I’m swamped,” “I’ll get back to you,” or whatever response you choose. Are we really that busy? Are we really that swamped? How efficient do we really need to be? Burkeman says that we are caught in an “efficiency trap.”

We are, Burkeman says, hamsters on a wheel, spinning those wheels in attempt to do more and more. As if we needed reminding, Burkeman uses the example of the billable hour. The prevailing view, unfortunately, is that if that hour is not billed, it’s wasted. Not true. We are too shackled to productivity that can be measured and counted and valued in dollars and cents,  too invested in the future to live life today. However, as we all know, time is finite, Burkeman says; there are only 24 hours in a day no matter how many ways lawyers may try to bill for more than those 24 hours. (I have seen that happen.)

We are on a conveyor belt: the more we do, the more we have to do since the more people see us as being so efficient, the more work piles on. Does anyone remember the “I Love Lucy” episode where she and Ethel are working at a conveyor belt in a candy factory? If you have never seen it, I think it’s prescient, so stop for three minutes and click on the link. Ever felt like that? I have, and I’m sure many others feel likewise.

Like many of us, I have read so many time management books over the years, gone through so many planners of various types and methods, wrote so many to-do lists that didn’t get done, that the thought of reading one more was not something I wanted to do. I thought it would be a waste of whatever time I do have. However, the title of this one brought me up short.

This book is different because it clarifies, at least for me, that time is indeed a finite resource, that there is no way we can do everything we want to do or should do, that we have to rid ourselves of FOMO because there will always be things we want to do and just simply can’t for whatever the reasons. However, Burkeman says that there’s also JOMO, the joy of missing out, ditching another boring bar association meeting, dinner, or networking event, and instead spending time doing what you want to do and not being compelled to do otherwise. Saying “no” is liberating.

There’s nothing wrong with using time to do the things and live the life we most want. Granted, we must earn livings, take care of our families, and perform other obligations, but we don’t need to say “yes” to everything that comes along. We may be flattered, honored, or pleased, but is this something we really want to do? That’s a question we all need to answer for ourselves, and everyone’s answer will be different, depending upon priorities and what and who matter most.

We pride ourselves on being overcommitted with a resume of professional and personal activities and achievements that are pages long. How many of those are meaningful or just activities that look impressive, at least to others, even if you know they’re just eye candy?

Burkeman has some suggestions for how to gain control (or regain control) of your life. They include setting time limits for your work, focusing on one project at a time (no multitasking), embracing strategic underachievement (synonymous with “you can’t do it all”), focusing on what you’ve already completed, consolidating your caring (don’t spread yourself too thin), using single purpose and boring technology like an e-reader as opposed to a tablet, enjoying the mundane, being curious, acting on generous impulses right away, and practicing doing … absolutely nothing. How hard is the last suggestion? The hardest for us overachievers, although I am not sure that the others are all that much easier.

The poet Mary Oliver asked the question: “What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” If we have learned anything from the past 18 months (and counting), it’s that life is precious and finite, and that we all have the same finish line. How you spend your life before you cross it is up to you.

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Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at [email protected].