Do you worry that you might be wasting your life? Do you feel like you're constantly doing things that don't feel valuable? Do you get anxious that your to-do list only seems to get longer and you only seem to get older and the world is speeding up and holy ball balls, it's already 2024? Yeah, of course you do. We all do. And like the rest of us, you've probably tried to figure out a way to manage your time better, like with to-do lists or time blocking your calendar or creating an Eisenhower matrix or some fancy-schmancy new app that promises to remove all stress and anxiety from your life by automatically ordering your toilet paper and installments. And yet, there's still that nagging voice in the back of your head, whispering to you that it isn't enough. It's never enough. But of course, you've got to get more work done. You got to spend more time with your partner, with your family. You've got to nurture your friendships. You got to save more whales and save more children and save endangered salamander and change your profile picture to whatever sociocultural political trend is happening on TikTok. It's a lot.

It's a lot. But what if there's a way to escape the doom loop? What if you could actually get more of the important things done not by defeating Father Time once and for all, but rather surrendering to him? Are you wondering what the fuck I'm talking about? Well, that's because we're going to get into it in today's episode. We're going to look at how our perception of our time shapes our sense of self-worth, how it's often advantageous to choose to be bad at something or just to not do something at all. Yes, I hear the overachievers screaming in horror when I say that, but please stick with me here. To help me out with all this, we will be joined by my friend Oliver Berkman. He's the author of the hit bestseller 4,000 Weeks Time Management for Mortals. Oliver is a renowned journalist and author known for his unique ability to seamlessly blend philosophy and psychology and bring fresh and counterint, takes to classical personal development subjects like this one. Strap in for this one because it's going to get a mind-bending. We're about to embark on a journey that promises to enlighten, inform, and most importantly, inspire you to see your life, your choices, and your time in a completely new way.

But before we get started, I do have one small simple request. If you were listening to this, please take a minute, leave a rating or a review. It's a new podcast, and so I'm trying to grow so we can record more episodes and get bigger guests and do just a bunch of cool ass shit. Between now and the end of the year, I'm running a promotion where if you send me a screenshot of your review, I will send you my 2024 Life audit PDF for free. This PDF takes you step by step to document how you're choosing to spend your time, how you could be choosing to spend it better, what you could invest more time in, and of course, what you should say fuck it to and cut back in the new year. So go to markmanson. Net/audit, that's A-U-D-I-T, and get more info and send in your screenshots. Trust me, it will be well worth your time. Come on, guys. You know you fucking love the dad jokes. That's why you're here. You love the dad jokes. Let's get started. Twenty million books sold. Zero fucks given. It's the subtle art of not giving a fuck podcast with your host, Mark Hanson.

Going back and looking at your book again, I had this feeling that productivity or time management, you're almost making a bargain with yourself without realizing it, which is when you choose to measure something, say, a goal or an objective that you have, say, a New Year's resolution, when you choose to measure something, you objectify it. And when you objectify something, you inherently remove yourself from the present. You basically say, Okay, I'm going to increase my chances of accomplishing this thing, but the cost of doing that is that I'm going to enjoy it less and appreciate it less as it's happening. I think if you were to distill the revelation of your book for most people, I think it's that. It's like we've been making this bargain our entire lives without realizing it. And I guess it's just that sense of meaning or fulfillment was never put on the balance sheet when we were making our calculations or whatever.

I guess right at the bottom of this, there is this that I try to draw in the book between being alienated from time versus seeing yourself as part of time. Maybe we should go straight into Heidegah.

It's a fan favorite here, this little art podcast.

Just this idea that all these conversations... We talk so often about having a relationship with time. Maybe it's a relationship where you're fighting time, or maybe you're succeeding in winning the day or whatever it is. But it's always this thing where there's you and then there's time, and either this relationship is going well or it's going badly. I make the case that in pre-industrial times, certain other contexts in history, that whole notion that there's you and time and you've got to make the most of your time just falls apart if you just see yourself as being in the flow of life. If you feel that you are a bit of time rather than that you have this time you've got to try to make the most of. That's at the bottom of all this. It's just this notion that this idea that it's inherently a struggle or a fight and we've got to try to dominate or master time and that a good life would be one where we squeezed the most value out of it. Sounds like it would be right, but if the moment when that value gets enjoyed is always in the future, then one day you die and you never got to be present in your own life.

On a practical level, what does that look like? How does one, say, work week, differ between one approach and another?

I think it's fundamentally to do with facing up to the realities of one's limitations, the degree to which you are limited by time, the fact that you only have so many hours in a day, the fact that you're going to have a finite number of years in a life. Instead of being in a constant struggle against this to try to somehow achieve escape velocity from your own situation, you're working with it. I think one of the things that means is getting more comfortable with working sequentially on things, being willing to neglect almost everything for large chunks of time. While you work on a small number of them, it's about being willing to neglect some things, perhaps entirely, because you understand that your situation is finite person in a world of infinite possibilities and that trying to get your arms around all of them or get so efficient that you could do all of them is like a... It's a denial of the truth of what you are, which is a finite person in the world. And so even though that sounds at first like a defeat, right? It's like, Surrender. So I'm going to get less, I'm going to do fewer of the things that I'd dreamed I might do.

It's actually a way of really concentrating your energies on a few things, not being perpetually distracted and made anxious by the fact that there are all sorts of other things you could, in principle, be doing and entering more and more fully into the state of being a finite human.

I like the name that you came up for this in the book as well, which is a strategic underachievement. I think for a lot of people, that just instinctually makes them bristle, makes them uncomfortable. What is the strategic underachievement? Is that that consciously choosing things that you're willing to fail at to make energy and space for the things that are most important?

Yeah. I mean, this phrase originates not with me and as a joke, right? Originally, I think this idea was, this is like if you don't want to be the person who ever has to change the toner in the printer at work or the photocopier in the office, then just do it once really badly and you'll never get asked to do it again. There's that strategic underachievement. I expanded the idea in the book to the idea that if it is the case, which it is, that there are always far more things you won't be doing and won't be excelling at than any that you are, that's just math. It's no criticism of you. Then it actually makes a lot of sense to get conscious about that and to be willing to have the guts to face like, okay, this domain of life or maybe these friendships that aren't as important to me as these other ones. I'm actually going to take the conscious decision to not focus my energies on nurturing those, on developing those. Just because you're going to be choosing anyway. This is a point I associate with your writing as well. You're always choosing what to do in a finite situation anyway.

The question is, are you going to face up to it or continue to deceive yourself that somehow, in a while, never right now, but sometime in the future you're going to finally be omnipotent and capable of doing it all? One aspect of this that I think is really important and immediately practical maybe is just that being willing to work sequentially and seasonally even on things. So to say for this period of my life or of the year, it could be all different lengths of time. But say for this next few months, I'm going to put all these things on the back burner, not because they don't matter, not because I've managed to convince myself that they're irrelevant, that I don't need them, but just because something's got to be on the back burner if I'm going to really move the needle. I'm mixing metaphors terribly here, but move the needle with something on the front burner.

Moving needles on burners. Yeah.

A strange is going on. It takes a lot of trust, right? I feel like we often go through life thinking that with this implicit notion that if we don't address all these things now, we might completely forget that we cared about a certain friend or that we were really interested in a certain sport. So it's strange. It's like if you don't do it now, you're worried that you might just wake up decades later and have never done it. So you have to trust yourself that actually it's going to get its time.

I feel like... You mentioned a writing project. I feel like I had to really learn to do this with books because just writing a book is so all-consuming for minimum six months often a year or more that with my last book, I actually very explicitly went to everybody in my life and was like, Hey, I'm about to go into the bunker with this book. I'm not going to be around a whole lot. Told my wife that, told my team that, told some of my friends that. I'm just going to be in my little riding hole, tredging away at it. And I'm going to come out in six or eight months and I'll be a happy, fun person again that will be enjoyable to hang out with. But until that moment... So I feel like a lot of it is setting expectations with people. One thing I hear from people a lot or that I've noticed from talking to readers is that the people that I've seen who really, really struggle with this seems to be people pleasers. It seems to be the people pleasers who don't give themselves space to fail or underperform at anything.

The driving motivation of that seems to be this fear of judgment or disappointment. Yeah. What I've noticed with people is that they tend to be more comfortable with the idea of failing themselves. But if it comes to failing a family member or a coworker or a friend, for a lot of people, it's just unmanageable. So I'm curious, have you run into that and what you would say to those people?

Yeah, I've totally run into it. I totally encounter the same experience talking to readers, but also it feels closer to home than that. It feels like in my character as well. I think one really useful thing, there's this move that I often find myself making in the arguments that I'm making writing, which is that path to liberation in some given area is realizing that the situation is worse than you think it is. This is a Zen idea, I guess, in many ways. But if you getting through your whole to-do list is going to be incredibly difficult, that is super stressful. If you see that it's logically, systematically, whatever, intrinsically impossible, there's much less suffering involved with that because you've seen that actually you were trying to do something that isn't within human capacities. Where this applies in the people-pleasing case, I think, is it's been really useful for me anyway to realize that it doesn't really please people to be a people pleaser. It doesn't work on its own terms. I feel like I've spent a lot of my earlier adult life turning every opportunity that came my way into an onerous obligation that I didn't really want to do just because I signed up to it.

And then spending my whole life feeling like I just had to fulfill all my obligations to people I'd agreed to do stuff for, or that I was in a relationship such that I had to do stuff for them. And people pick up on that and they don't like it, right? It leads to all sorts of wheezy behavior on one's own part that isn't really helpful. I wrote in a newsletter recently about where I was working on one assignment and I'd been asked by an editor if I could take on this other assignment and I didn't know if I had the bandwidth, so I had delayed giving her a reply. Eventually I went over and had a sheepish conversation about how I didn't think I would be able to do it. Of course, by then it was more annoying to be pulling out of it. I recall her saying to me, If you can't do something, it's often just easier for everyone if you can just say no when you realize that. It was just a mundane comment, but actually really eye opening in hindsight. Because the people-pleasing urge is an urge to be able to do everything, to be able to meet all demands, to never have to make that uncomfortable decision that you're going to let somebody down or risk disappointing somebody for all sorts of childhood reasons, it turns you into someone who doesn't do good work for the people you're trying to please or who isn't a good relationship partner for the people you're trying to please.

It's just like it doesn't actually help anybody. And I find that that realization that something is just no good on its own terms is always a lot more powerful, I think, in affecting change, at least in me personally, than just telling yourself that you should be different.

I think that's a really good point, and I don't think I've ever heard it put explicitly like that. It's funny. My wife has this thing, and I always just thought it was a pet peeve, but I think it's actually very healthy, which she has this thing where she would rather I not go to something than go and not enjoy it. So you know how most marriages, you always have these situations where your partner is like, Well, we got to go do this thing with my friends or my mom or whatever. She's like, If you're not excited to go, just don't go, because I'd rather go alone and just tell my family that you're busy than have you show up and spend the whole evening on your phone and miserable and wanting to go home. And it's very jarring for a lot of people. I mean, I've been married to her forever, and it's still jarring to me sometimes. But she's a stickler about it. And I think it actually ends up netting out much better because so many of us, and I'm guilty of this a million times, you get roped in the things. You feel bad.

You're like, Well, my brother's friends' roommates's birthday, and I turned down the last two invitations. And I don't want to be the asshole who turns down three invitations. So you go and what people don't realize is you're bringing the mood of the party down itself. You're actually potentially a net negative. And then, as you pointed out, in a professional situation, when you take on too much work, you're potentially a net negative on that work you're taking on that you don't really want to do anyway either.

Right, exactly. That guilt feeling where you go along with the thing because you feel like you should. It doesn't serve anybody involved. And also, usually the consequence of in an upfront way declining is pretty rare that people are going to be extremely offended. Obviously, that's situational, circumstantial, but there is a egotism in the notion that I've got to say yes to a social invitation, otherwise that social event is going to be terribly bad in my absence or something. There's that notion that the world orbits around myself in a way that it obviously just doesn't. Then as soon as you put this into practice by not getting roped into certain things or even pulling out of things that you've originally let yourself get roped into. The consequences never really seem to be as as collaborative as on some level I'm imagining.

Or if they are, like if the person makes a big and fuss about it, then that tells you something about your relationship with that person. It's so simple, but we get so caught up in mind games and status games of like, Oh, well, Susie won't like me if I say do this. And she came to my thing, so I feel like I have to go to her thing because I don't want to look bad and blah, blah, blah. I think sometimes we just complicate things unnecessarily. And like you said, make ourselves the center of the universe.

Yeah, I think that's right. I mean, the difficulty with this trade off and prioritization question comes when you just have competing values in yourself, right? I mean, not when you don't want to go to the social event at all, but you're going to pretend to because you just don't want to make people feel bad. But when you just legitimately do want to say, be the person who supports this organization and be the person who spends this amount of quality time with your kid and be the person who spends this amount of time on meditation retreats like that's where you get into this situation where something is going to have to give. I think that the understanding that something is always going to have to give, as I said before, is actually really liberating because then you don't at least need to beat yourself up for not having found a way to fit it all in.

You have a bit of a spicy take. I don't know if I disagree with you, but I definitely want to discuss it. You have this point of don't try to change the world. Don't build up these grandeose expectations. As I reread this, I thought Steve Jobs is rolling in his grave. My counterargument to this. And it's funny because this is something I've wrestled with myself. First of all, the classic Steve Jobs quote, It's the people who are crazy enough to think they're going to change the world who actually do. So first of all, explain that. What is the motivation behind the don't try to change the world? What does that get us? And then we can talk about the...

It's not that it's bad to be Steve Jobs creating the iPhone, but that it is really bad to have a definition of a life well spent or a life meaningfully spent that only people like Steve Jobs get to qualify for because they do something absolutely huge that affects millions of people. That is astounding and impressive. This is where I don't feel ambivalent. I really want to speak up for definitions of a meaningful life that are a much less conspicuous, but also more transient in a way. We all know that it is meaningful to care for an elderly relative or to be in nature in certain contexts, to go hiking in wilderness landscapes. These things are meaningful ways of spending our time. We feel intuitively. It's really hard to make a case that they are necessarily going to matter a few hundred years from now. You can always try to make that case about how your kid is going to be the one who solves this or that global crisis. But no, they matter in themselves. I was really influenced, and I think about all this, by a philosopher called Ido Landau, a book called Finding Meaning in an imperfect world, where he just points out it's so weird, basically, to culturally adopt these definitions of the best lives that are just going to be in terms of statistics or the distribution of talent and luck, just going to be closed to the vast majority of people, beating ourselves up because we're not Shakespeare.

It's a strange way to go through life.

It's funny. On our previous podcast I had with Scott Berry Kaufman, we talked about having a toxic relationship with goals, how you can basically sacrifice your self-worth for a goal the same way people often sacrifice their self-worth to make their partner happy or to make a relationship work, and how it's ultimately self-defeating. It just makes everything worse. A lot of what you're talking about, it sounds like you can develop a toxic relationship with time, which is you start basing your self-worth on efficiency and optimization, which, as you point out in the book, there's no end to efficiency and optimization. No matter how optimized you get, there's always another level of optimization that you can achieve. But I also think it's interesting because this often happens to me, I think this happens to most people. It's like I'll have a big goal in my life, I'll work my ass off to achieve it, and then I get the goal and I'm disappointed. I'm like, Wow, I thought this was going to be a lot better. I worked so hard for so many months, and now I'm here and I'm just like, now what?

Right, yeah. I think this toxic relationship frame is interesting because sometimes you're the domineering, control-obsessed partner in this toxic relationship, and then other times you're spending your life placating time with all your activity and exertions. Time doesn't keep to the deal, right? But the reward is not... Is not commensurate with the effort. As I say, I think that maybe the answer to this is to stop thinking about time as something you're in a relationship with rather than to have a healthy relationship with time. I know that sounds mindbending, but I think this very strange, slightly stoned notion of time as something that you are is really powerful because it gets you out of that whole mindset of trying to control the course of your life rather than to experience the course of your life.

So I'm with you on the stone conceptual grocking of this idea of inhabiting time rather than being in a relationship, trying to control it. I lived in Latin America for four years, primarily Brazil, but also in Colombia and Argentina. Latinos have a very different understanding of time than us, Anglo-Saxon people. When I'm in Brazil, and I go back to Brazil once or twice a year, the thing that's amazing about Brazil is people are present. They're enjoying themselves. They're not worried about tomorrow. They're not worried about next week. If there's a dinner, they're in the dinner. If there's a party, they're in the party. If there is a concert, they're in the concert. But at the same time, nothing fucking gets done in Brazil. There are half-built highways that have been sitting there for 20 years in Brazil. And it's funny because growing up in the States and particularly being interested in Buddhism, which I still want to get to Buddhism, I definitely had this very romanticized idea of being present. I remember when I was in my early 20s, I read The Power of Now, and like a lot of people who read Power of Now, it's for about a month presence was the hammer and everything in my life was the nail.

I was like, Oh, I just got to be present. And living in Latin America for that amount of time, it changed my mind a little bit about presence. I think that's when it switched to viewing this orientation towards time as maybe a trade-off. And I almost feel like maybe the healthiest way to go about it is having a flexibility in terms of when you need to be present, be present. And when you need to set goals and systematize time, you can set goals and systematize time. Both of those things are skills that are not easy or natural to most people, I think.

I wonder if you can go even further than just saying you need a balance or to be able to move flexibly between them and to say there's something important here about understanding that the tools of efficiency and productivity and optimization are just tools. I think even Descartes says something along these lines. It's not that thinking is bad, it's that can you develop a relationship to thinking where you pick it up when you need it and put it down when you don't, as opposed to becoming fully identified with it, or in the case of our tools, governed by them instead of using them. Something that I keep getting asked when I do media about the book and stuff is always like, Well, you've said all these things about how productivity is nonsense, but are there any productivity tips, techniques you do still use? It's always like I'm going to reveal that actually I'm completely obsessed with squeezing every minute out of my time. I'm like, Actually, I am obsessed with that and that's why I wrote the book. There is nothing wrong with productivity techniques if what you're doing is just picking the one that seems useful for you right now and using it because it's useful and then stopping using it when it isn't useful.

It's the idea that there's some great meta principle or technique in the sky that you're going to use, and once you find it, you're going to run your whole life on it forever. That stuff will lead you down all sorts of odd pathways. But I don't think there's anything wrong with the use of tools as tools. I think this goes to what you're saying because I think it is possible, at least on my good days, I'm not claiming any unbroken perfection in this, to center yourself in that presence in the moment and in life and then use these kinds of methods of planning and of fitting more in and working faster when you need to and setting goals and defining outcomes without becoming totally identified with them. There's a whole idea that I've also been really impressed by in a lot of the Zen writing, and I came across it in a really interesting little book called The Art of Taking Action. Actually, it's possible to see those Eastern spiritualities as very much about action, not as about passivity and just sitting cross-legged on a mountainside meditating. That in a way, there's almost this framing that says if you really, truly were in the moment in the fullest sense, not because you're just hedonistically relaxed or something, but you've got all your thinking out of the way, you're not impeding yourself, what would happen would be lots of action.

You would do a lot of stuff. Maybe this is too obscure and not even fully formed in my own mind, but I think there is a potential way of seeing the switch here from... Not from, we spend our lives endlessly chasing these goals and being miserable in the process. So what we have to do instead is stop chasing goals and just chill out. But from that first idea of actions leading up to some future fulfillment and switching it to the idea that action is the expression of fulfillment. That the way that you celebrate being alive, the way that you express joy is just by doing stuff. If you're doing stuff that you enjoy, and if you love your work in some sense of that fraught phrase, that's a possibility for you. The idea that you could be really active and get huge amounts accomplished, but not because meaning lies at the end of a long slog, but because that is what's meaningful for you to do. Certainly, at least in theory, that's how I feel about my work. If I eliminated all anxiety I have about my work, if I had no need to do it for financial reasons or for egotistical reasons, I hope that I would still want to do it because I enjoy doing it.

I think there was a really profound idea between presence and procrastination or anxiety about outcome. Because I think fundamentally what procrastination is, is it's a low-level anxiety about outcome. I'm working on this article or working on this email because I'm worried it won't go well or it won't turn out as well as I think it will. And the only thing I've ever found in my life that defeats procrastination is adopting that presence of stop thinking about the outcome, open a fucking Word document, be present, click the button, click the button again. Okay, write the title. Okay, that's done. Now write the first sentence. And just taking it little piece by piece, which when you do look at the Zen tradition or a lot of the Eastern traditions, it is very much like that. It's fetch wood, carry water practices. It's like when you read about monks and temples and stuff, they're fucking doing chores all day. And part of the practice of that is to only be focused on the next block of wood. Don't look at the tree, don't look at all the logs, just focus on this one block of wood, split it.

Okay, now focus on the next block. Again, as a tool, being able to access that state of mind, I think, is supremely valuable and ironically productive.

I'm a little prone to ranging freely over various spiritual traditions in which I have no right to be doing so. But it does make me want to make the point here that a lot of these ideas arise in a really interesting form in DAOism, which sometimes seems, again, from my shockingly amateur perspective, as the happier cousin of Buddhism. It's like maybe the essence of life isn't that it all completely sucks. Maybe the essence of life is that it's really great. But there's a tradition there in the idea of woo-way, effortless action, the idea that action is what happens when you get out of the way of impeding action, that the perfect mastery of an activity is very close in some sense to inactivity because you're acting without... You're taking yourself out of the picture and as a result, acting more fully in the moment. So again, just as it's come to the West and how I've encountered it, there's always this slight edge in Buddhism of the ultimate idea here would be to be so completely free of self that you would just sit in the meditation center. There's this emphasis that occurs more in my experience in Daoism that if you really could get yourself out of the picture, just like activity would flow through you.

Yeah.

So we've got some commonalities. We're identifying a theme here that's popping up regularly, which is people identifying too much with goals, people identifying too much with politics news, people identifying too much with how much they're able to get done. There's nothing wrong with goals. There's nothing wrong with politics, there's nothing wrong with productivity. It's when you start basing your identity on these things, seeing them as a fundamental aspect of yourself rather than a tool to be used. Ultimately, this all dovetails perfectly with the core tenets of Buddhism, which is just disidentification with everything. There is no you, you don't exist. So stop pretending you are this or that or the other thing. You and I met by going to a Buddhist event, by a Zen meditation group in New York. What is your background with Buddhism? How did you get into it and how has it influenced you in your work throughout your life?

I think I tried meditating in some sense when I was about maybe 19 or 18 or something, but not in a serious way at all and not in a way that lasted. But that was certainly when I was becoming in some sense aware of my own anxiety levels and my need for something to deal with them. I think the real impact for me, especially recently is... I don't know, there are all sorts of these issues that I was feeling my way towards in my own reading and writing and the column I wrote for The Guardian that really feel brought into focus by Buddhism and Eastern philosophies more generally. Certainly in my case, I think they do appeal to we left-brained people, to the analytical mind, to the person who thinks they're going to solve all their lives problems by thinking. That's not what they are, it's not what they promise. But in a way it's the entry point. I'm not super literate in other religions either, but I do think with Christianity, for example, there are certain things that's really helpful if you can believe in a felt way and then you can take it from there.

Whereas.

A lot of the Buddhism that has come into the West is very much like, You don't believe anything. Just look at the way things are follow these arguments. What I really love specifically about Zen, I think, is that it does this in a way that it takes the left brain and it really doubles down on it until you get to the end of what the left brain can possibly do. That is one way, I would say, of thinking about a Zen Koan, a teaching story that is in some sense a puzzle. And if you just apply your thinking mind to it as hard as you can, it will just break your brain in a useful and illuminating and liberating way. There's something very appealing to me as a brain on a stalk type person, as a too analytical left brain person. There's something really appealing about pursuing that way of that approach to life as far as it'll go and to the point where it judders and collapses. That's how I get to feelings of presence and feelings of being more than just my thinking mind. It's like by trying really hard to solve the world, the problem of reality through my thinking mind and failing.

Whereas other religions and other approaches appeal, I'm sure, more to people who are naturally feeling and emotional types first. There are so many great quotations that come from the Zen tradition that just revolve around this idea. Problem here is that you think you're going to solve the problem. The suffering of your not having found escape hatch from your situation is in the belief that there was ever an escape hatch. All these wonderful, intellectually playful things that ultimately have the effect of showing overly intellectual types, the limitations of the intellect. I find that really helpful.

It's a really interesting point because I grew up in a very religious Christian upbringing, and I was always frustrated growing up at how Christianity really just doesn't even engage with the analytical mind. You're actually supposed to put your analytical mind away, just suspend disbelief when engaging with a lot of the Christian mythology. And yeah, Buddhism just takes it, or Zen in particular, seems to be very much geared towards taking that analytical tendency and just breaking it in paradox and in self-reference. And there's something very pleasing about it. It's very intellectually satisfying in a weird way, even though you're being presented problems that clearly have no logical solution to them. You strangely feel happy about that. Whereas in Christianity, I was just always frustrated. I'm like, Well, wait, no. Explain why. Was there actually a whale? Did he actually swallow them? And everybody's like, Stop asking questions.

Right. And I think a lot of this has to do with, and this is an old point, but a lot of this has to do with whether one is encountering what is ultimately the schoolastic, monastic form of religion or the folk form of religion. And broadly speaking, I think you're much more likely to encounter folk, Christianity, and monastic Buddhism if you're in America in the 21st century.

Yeah, for sure. What do you think is the primary misconception people have about productivity and time management?

Wow, that's a very good and big question. I suppose one of the misconceptions that I think is really powerful, if you can even call it a misconception, is this notion that the time when we are going to have everything sorted out is forthcoming. That in a few weeks' time or maybe it's a few years' time or when you find the right system or you finally find reserves of self-discipline that you've never shown before at any point in your life, at that point, the moment of truth will happen and things will be smooth sailing from then on. I think that totally screwed me up for a long time, that notion that I wasn't there yet, but I was going to get there. It's not that you don't change or reach milestones or transform certain aspects of your life because you do, but you don't get them by imagining that meaning is in the future. You get them by finding ways to bring meaning to the present, I suppose.

Mr. Berkman, it's been a pleasure. So what's our final word of wisdom, Oliver? What should we tell people? What should we leave them with?

There's a quotation I really like. I actually use it at the beginning of the book, but from Charlotte Jocko Beck, the American Zen teacher, which I feel like is the summary statement of all our problems in life. And she says, What makes it unbearable... I think she means life. What makes it unbearable is your mistaken belief that it can be cured.

Awesome. Well, enjoy. Try not to cry yourself to sleep, folks. All right, we'll be back next week. Thank you. This is Subtle Art: Not Giving a Fuck Podcast. See you guys later. I can't run. Every word will shake me. Every star will be on my throne.