Staying on the Bus

Oliver Burkeman explores the topic of time management in his (fairly new) book Four Thousand Weeks. His approach seems counterintuitive when compared to most productivity gurus because instead of giving us hacks to manage our time better, he wants us to realize our limitations with time.

From the several ways in which the book tries to tweak our perspective towards time, I’ll cover one of the interesting insights in this essay. To put in one line, Oliver advices us to be patient and let things take the time they need.

More often than not, we become impatient when we get the sense of losing control. When we think that we’ve given something ample time but there’s no tangible progress, we feel the urge to quit. That’s when, Oliver says, we need to be patient, even if it seems unappetizing and passive.

To illustrate his point, he gives several examples and case studies. Let me go through two of those briefly.

Jennifer Roberts, professor of art history at Harvard University, gives her students an assignment to choose a painting at their local museum and look at it for 3 hours. There’s nothing more to it, just look at it for 3 hours straight without any distractions like checking your phone.

As horrifying as it is for the students, Roberts wants them to understand the painting to a level which can neither be taught by an instructor, nor can be understood with active effort. The only way is to let the art sink into their minds naturally. To let it take the time it takes.

She recalls when she first undertook the assignment herself with a painting called Boy with a Squirrel by John Singleton Copley. It took her 9 minutes to notice that the boy’s ear is shaped exactly as the ruff along the squirrel’s belly. And only at minute 45 did she realize that the random folds and wrinkles in the background curtain were in fact perfect copies of the boy’s ear and eye.

You can take a quick glance at a painting and be done with it. But to truly appreciate the intricacies of the art, you’ll need to make a considerable amount of passive effort. And the same principle can be extrapolated to other fields.

During a code debug session, if I fail to track the fault even after trying everything, I just sit idle for some time. I do nothing and let my mind wander. Quite often, the solution presents itself.

Even with these essays, most of my writing sessions involve staring at the blank page for hours at end. I feel I’m out of ideas. I feel the urge to get up, to check my phone, to quit. But every single time, I find something to write about. All it takes is some patience.

The second illustration is of the Finnish American photographer Arno Minkkinen. Minkkinen tells the parable of Helsinki’s main bus station which has 2 dozen platforms and a number of bus lines departing from each. Each bus covers the same route within the city, making the same stops, until it leaves for a unique route outside. This means that no matter which bus you take, you will see the same parts of the city. Your route won’t be unique until you leave the city.

This parable is an analogy for a career path. Minkkinen says that no matter which field or niche you choose, your work is bound to be somewhat mediocre, unoriginal, uninspiring in the beginning. It will be the same as everyone else, like every other bus. Even after 3 years, you will find yourself copying from the greats of your field. This is natural, he says, but the important thing is to stay on the bus. Cause if you stay on the bus long enough, it will eventually leave the city for its unique route. You will be able to produce original work, unlike anyone else.

Extrapolating the idea in Oliver’s words, “To experience the profound mutual understanding of the long-married couple, you have to stay married to one person; to know what it’s like to be deeply rooted in a particular community and place, you have to stop moving around.”

Read this book if you want a fresh perspective on your relationship with time:

We’re often advised to take action, to move fast, to get things done. But some things can’t be hurried up. They take the time they take. All we can do is be comfortable with waiting.

Good night!
Aachman