Is it cool to write a book review when you’re on page 13?
That’s where we are today.
The topic I planned for this Thursday is just going to have to wait until next week.
I’m a massive consumer of new ideas.
Got a podcast you want me to listen to? A favourite book? YouTube videos on the latest … whatever? Send ‘em over.
I buy books like others buy milk. I’m endlessly curious. Easily inspired.
And wildly optimistic about how much I can take in and still do something meaningful with it.
And, of course, my aspirations almost certainly always outpace my follow through.
I woke up on Saturday and started a book, listened to another book on a walk, attended a workshop on Chi Gong in the afternoon, came home and uploaded the Audible transcript into Notebook LM so I could turn it into a podcast-style conversation, because apparently listening to people talk about ideas is more fun than having ideas read to me.
Somewhere in there, I looked up Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird because I’d like to write a book. And then my head exploded.
Energized and inspired by all of it. And got through very little.
Is anyone else worried about my ADHD? Me too.
I’ve recently adopted the theme: there is freedom in focus. Start fewer things. Finish them.
Never mind the book I bought during a meeting yesterday, in the time it took for the person recommending it to put it back down on the desk in front of him.
I always imagine I’ll be the person who wakes up every morning and just… reads. This week, I am.
This book was mentioned on a podcast recommended by a friend. In my Amazon cart within minutes of starting the episode and out for delivery the next day.
And here we are, talking about it.
So when I say I’m on page 13 of a book and I’m about to tell you about it, that probably tells you something about the impact of this particular topic, by this particular author, at this particular moment.
It’s a daily-dose book. A couple of pages a day.
Twenty-eight days later, you’re a new person.
I’m on day two.
More than a year of One Thing Thursdays in the books and this is the first book review, from a page 13 perspective, no less.
Oliver Berkman built a career out of thinking about productivity.
He wrote Four Thousand Weeks — a book I bought, obviously, read the first few chapters, found fascinating, and then moved on to find the next squirrel.
The podcast that led me to Meditations for Mortals was about productivity too. Systems. Time. Doing more with less.
And yet this book couldn’t be further from that.
He hits you right between the eyes with the reality of our existence: How finite the human experience is.
Despite all the things we think we can squeeze in.
Despite the systems and plans for optimizing time.
Despite the belief that once we get organized enough, disciplined enough, focused enough, we’ll finally feel on top of things.
There is no more time. And very little control of it.
It’s here now. And it’s slipping away by the second as you read this.
The rat race. The treadmill. The bucket list.
All variations of the same story.
Someday, when I’m in control, then I’ll really start living.
The only certainty you have is what you do right now.
A good friend once shared advice his father gave him.
No matter what you’re going through, get out of bed in the morning, put your boots on, and go do something.
Not fix everything. Not figure it all out. Just… do something.
Which brings me to day two of this book: Kayaks and Superyachts.
Berkman offers a simple image. To be human is to be in a one-person kayak, carried along the river of time. You’re exposed. Vulnerable. At the mercy of the current. All you can really do is stay alert and steer.
But most of us would rather believe we’re on a superyacht. Calm. In control. Programming the route. Sitting back while everything unfolds exactly as planned.
That’s the fantasy. And while we’re busy perfecting the plan, we’re not actually living.
Here’s what hit me on page 13.
Actually doing one meaningful thing today requires giving up the illusion of control.
Write a few paragraphs. Sit down to meditate. Give your full attention to one exchange with your child.
Take a step on something that matters to you.
None of it comes with guarantees. That’s the price of being in the kayak. And also the freedom.
For the person who buys books like most people buy milk, these two pages will sit with me for a long time.
And the mantra I’m taking with me:
Just…do something.
There’s freedom in letting go.
If you recognize the drive to fit it all in, do it all, optimize it all, in yourself or the people around you, pass this along. Consider it a small nudge from one kayak to another.
New to One Thing Thursdays?
Each week, I share something I’m learning, living, or working out in real time. It’s part storytelling, part reflection. I hope there’s something in it for you too.
Get it straight to your inbox every Thursday! Subscribe to our newsletter
Mary
P.S. We help visionary leaders and organizations achieve more impact through purpose, engagement and storytelling. When you’re ready, here’s how we can help:
- Build the story of your impact through Envision OnPrpose™
- Energize your people’s potential from the inside out with Engage OnPrpose™
- Amplify your industry voice through Influence OnPrpose™
- Develop purpose-driven leaders and storytellers with Influential Leaders Circle™